A Living Nightmare
by LVOWL
Summary: If you die in a dream, you can't die in real life. Or so they say. A young woman's been plagued with nightmares of a man with two hearts. The Doctor wants to help her but she's deathly afraid of him. Can he gain her trust before her dreams kill her?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who... sadly.

AN: Reviews are very much appreciated! Let me know if 11's in character, I've never written dialogue for him. :]

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><p><strong>A Living Nightmare<strong>

Chapter One: One Small Step for Woman

Problems arose all the time, usually unexpectedly, especially if you were the Doctor, but _catastrophes_ were something that could be predicted, even if sudden, especially if you were the Doctor. _However_, as the Doctor stood by the TARDIS console, reminiscing on the departure of his latest companions, a catastrophe was brewing in the depths of his trusted ship that even he didn't notice.

"You should be used to this by now," he told himself. "Besides, it's not like she fell into a black hole or a parallel universe… She just got married."

The Doctor pushed himself from the console and forced his approaching ill mood away. He wasn't going to mourn someone who was alive and well- and she _was_. She was alive and well and happily married. They both were. He saw it coming a mile away. Who wouldn't? The two of them needed alone time, a lot of alone time as married couples do and he was always there. A constant third wheel- something that he normally never could call himself until then. He was usually the first wheel or at least the second, never the third.

He sighed despite himself and looked around the spacious TARDIS interior. It seemed so much emptier now with him standing there, the whole of it to himself whether he liked it or not. The silence was deafening. His companions were such a huge part of his life and it hurt to see them go. It never got easier for him; in fact, it was more painful each time.

"Maybe I should just get a pet!" he said suddenly, breaking the silence that was beginning to weigh on him.

"Eh? They won't get tired of being here… or get married. A new K-9 model? Nah, probably not. A cat? I doubt we'd get along…" The Doctor thought for a moment, humoring himself. "Maybe a fish. One of those flying sky swimming fishy _fish_… I'd probably need some air filtration devices though…"

Before he had a chance to continue his one sided conversation, the TARDIS let out a shrill grinding noise and lurched sideways. The Doctor was flung into the railing, having been caught off guard. The TARDIS rocked in the other direction, sending its lone occupant towards the main console.

"Whoooa! Steady girl!" he cried as he latched onto a dangling hand grip.

The Doctor was pleased to be near the controls as he began typing on what appeared to be an old fashioned typewriter. He hit a few buttons beside it and staggered to the other side of the console, just barely keeping his balance. After flipping a large lever, the large central pillar began moving up and down. The sporadic lurching of the TARDIS slowed until it was still and he could stand without hanging on to anything.

The Doctor raised his brows questioningly, "What was that all about?"

The TARDIS let out a low hum, as if she were groaning. He walked about to a large hanging monitor and tapped the screen. "Are you sick, girl? Can we get a diagnostic?"

He pulled out his screwdriver and sonicked the screen until a few readings came up. His eyes widened, "Ah, no! No! Are you kidding?" he exclaimed, genuinely surprised. "We've got an infestation!"

The Doctor ran down to the lower level below the console and opened a panel. He changed the frequency on the screwdriver and sonicked the wires. Sure enough, a horde of small bug like creatures became visible. They had rounded blue bodies made of electricity and tiny flickering yellow eyes. He could see they were everywhere in the wiring and mucking up the system operations.

He threw his hands up in defeat. "_Electromites_? How'd we get _electromites_?" he asked himself. "Haven't been in any ion storms recently, I don't get it. I just don't get it! It's not like they're overwrought in this time or even on Earth for the matter. How'd they pop up all of a sudden? "

The TARDIS groaned again, snapping the Doctor from his momentary conundrum. He went back up and strode over to the console.

"Alright, no matter how they got here, we've got to get rid of them. They feed on electrical energy, take that away, no more food, no more electromites, no more problems," he told the TARDIS as if she didn't already know. "Okay! Let's shut down most of the power. Drain the circuits of electrical energy and the electromite food supply."

He flipped a number of switches and pulled three levers down simultaneously. The lights dimmed then went out until all that was left was the dull glow on the central pillar. The Doctor looked up at it briefly then around him as tiny blue flashes and sparks sprang up from the panels. The electromites were acting up, sensing the immediate lack of energy.

"This isn't going to be fun," he told the TARDIS, "Just hang tight, ole girl. Wait it out. I'll be back in a few hours. They should be gone by then."

He gave the control panel a good pat and headed out the doors into an alleyway. He hadn't even broken the atmosphere when the TARDIS acted up, so the emergency landing ended up being quite close to Leadworth. It wasn't close enough to ensure a run in with Mr. and Mrs. Pond, although; he doubted they'd be outdoors so soon, or at this time of morning. He shook his head and began walking the length of the alley.

Suddenly, the Doctor stopped dead in his tracks, a horrible feeling of dread overtaking him. Something wasn't right. He could feel it. Something was terribly wrong. His hearts beat a little faster as a sudden realization over came him. He furrowed his brows in a worried manner and whispered quietly to himself.

"It's a Sunday…"

The fact that he had landed on a Sunday was distressing to him. Silently, he told himself to never ever EVER land on a Sunday again, emergency or not. Sundays were the absolute _worst_ day of the week. Horribly boring and uneventful. He seriously considered going straight back into the TARDIS and waiting out the debugging. Despite himself, the Doctor pushed forward into the dark city, determined to get his mind off of his troubles.

The cool crisp air rushed past him as he walked down the street, a certain bounce missing from his step. The sun hadn't risen yet and the streets were completely silent aside from his quiet footsteps. The shops were lit up and he glanced into the windows as he passed. They seemed mostly deserted for it was very late, or very early depending on how you thought of three in the morning. Nothing caught his eye so he continued on, wondering how much time had passed. Seven minutes. This was going to be a long wait. He was in mid sigh when an object fell out of nowhere, inches from his face.

The Doctor yelped and jumped back, caught off guard. He looked down at the pavement at the random fallen object. It was a slipper. He picked it up. A white bunny slipper to be precise. The Doctor raised a brow. Since when did it rain footwear? He looked around, checking the area to be sure he was still in the 21st century.

"It's much too early for the Great Shoe Revolution…" he said to himself, "And I'm not in Nepal."

He looked up at the building he was standing in front of, looking for anything abnormal. Six stories, dull paint, few scattered lights on and black lettering that read 'Ellsworth Flats'. An apartment, he thought. He didn't see any windows open and he couldn't think of a reason why anyone would throw a slipper at him. If it had been both, maybe, but one? It didn't make sense.

The Doctor backed up into the empty street, still looking at the building. From his new vantage point, he could see the whole building and more importantly, the roof. And most importantly on the roof, the girl standing on the ledge with her arms spread wide, one bare foot suspended over the edge.

"Whoa! Oh! You!" he shouted up to her, surprised.

The girl didn't move or give any indication that she had heard him. The Doctor ran a hand through his floppy hair, unsure of what to do. He pointed at her with the slipper, "You, hold on! Just wait a moment!"

He ran off towards the front doors of the building, paused, and then ran back to the street, looking at her again. "Really! I mean it, you stay right there!"

The Doctor took the stairs two at a time, having been too impatient to wait for the elevator. He burst through the door that led to the roof. He breathed a sigh of relief, seeing her still there. He approached her cautiously so as not to startle her. He could see she was shaking, most likely due to the wind. She was in a thin nightgown that he doubted did anything to relieve the cold.

She didn't turn around as he came up beside her, still a respectable arm's distance between them. Her face was turned up to the sky, her eyes closed. He gave her a once over before speaking.

"I think you dropped this," he said softly, holding up her bunny slipper.

Her reaction to his voice was immediate. She whipped around to see him, a look of alarm on her face. If he didn't know better, she appeared _too_ alarmed at his presence, even if he _was_ a stranger interrupting her supposed suicide. He put the thought aside for the moment.

The Doctor held up his hands in a defensive manner. "It's alright," he said, giving her a small smile, "I just want to help."

She opened her mouth but only a choking sound came out. The Doctor could see her panic building. Her breathing became very ragged as if she were hyperventilating. She put a hand to her mouth and she shook her head in disbelief. The look in her eyes was a mix of fear and desperation.

The Doctor knew what that look meant and what she was going to do. She took a step away from him, her heel coming inches from the ledge.

"Wait! Stop!" he shouted as she spun around.

Everything happened in a matter of a few seconds although it seemed much longer. The girl half jumped, half fell off the roof of the building. The Doctor sprinted over to the ledge just as she was almost out of sight. He nearly flung himself over as well in an effort to catch her. It was sheer luck that his hand met hers. He was actually surprised when he felt her weight suddenly pull him forward.

She looked up at him wide-eyed; apparently, she was even more surprised that he stopped her fall. "NO!" she screeched, clawing at his hand.

"Gah, stop that!" the Doctor strained, maintaining a good hold on her.

He reached down and grabbed her other hand, despite her protests. His hearts were beating madly with adrenaline. With some effort, he summoned all of his strength and managed to heave her up and onto the roof, kicking and screaming. The momentum sent him onto his back, the girl falling onto him.

She began yelling and thrashing around but the Doctor didn't let her go. The last thing he needed was her to dive off the roof again. He sat up and moved his grip from her hands to her torso. Almost immediately, she shoved him backwards, using her legs as a driving force.

"Let me go!" she cried, still struggling against him. "Let go!"

"Will you stop already!" he asked, exasperated.

The girl continued to thrash and scream incoherently. The Doctor was barely able to keep a hold of her without getting hurt in her fit. She had come within inches of breaking his nose when she threw her head back. Finally, after what felt like forever, she seemed to have exhausted herself and resigned to sobbing miserably.

The Doctor just lay there, trying to recover from the shock of it all, but not daring to relax his grasp on the hysterical girl. It wasn't every day that he had to wrestle a suicide jumper, something he was quite thankful for.

"I just… want to help you," he said between breaths.

She let out a sob that sounded more like a hiccup. "P-please," she whimpered softly, "Not again."

The Doctor furrowed his brows. "Not _what_ again?" he asked.

He waited, still breathing heavily but there was no answer from her. After a moment, he shifted the girl in his arms so that he could see her face. She had feinted, he realized. The Doctor stared down at her, confused and highly distressed.

"So much for a boring Sunday…" he said quietly to himself.


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Thanks so much Zoe for reviewing! It meant a lot! Reviews make me update faster! I'm talking to you alert people! Anywho, let me know what you think overall. :D

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><p>Chapter Two: Charcoal Heartbeat<p>

The Doctor stood and gathered the unconscious girl in his arms, still uncertain of his next move. He couldn't very well leave her there and the TARDIS was out of the question since the debugging wasn't even near complete. Besides, somehow he figured that her waking up in an alien ship that was bigger on the inside was not quite what she needed. But what exactly _did_ she need?

"And what was she talking about, 'not again'?" the Doctor asked himself, "Not_ what_ again?"

The door to the roof opened. "Oy! What are you doing up here?"

The Doctor spun around to face a middle aged man in striped pajamas. "Me? Oh, just checking the roof structure. It's very good! A very good… roof."

The man eyed him suspiciously. "What are you doing with Miranda?"

"Miranda?" the Doctor repeated then looked at the girl. "Oh, right! Miranda! She was, err, sleepwalking! She was walking… in her sleep. And I was making sure she was okay, while walking, sleepwalking."

The man nodded as though he believed him. "Who are you though? You look familiar… but you're not a tenant of mine."

"I'm the Doctor. Nice to meet you, Mr…?"

"Call me Wendell. You said you're her doctor?" he questioned, "That's good. I was beginning to wonder about her. I'm glad someone's doing something to help."

The Doctor frowned, "Help with what exactly?"

"Her night terrors," Wendell said as if it were obvious, "She has 'em every night for as long as I've known her, probably longer. All of the tenants complain about her screaming but I haven't the heart to toss her."

"So these night terrors are that bad…" the Doctor said more to himself, "Bad enough to…"

"To scream like that?" Wendell offered, "I suppose so. It always sounded like a horror movie, like she was being killed."

The Doctor's brows knitted together. "Has she told you about them?" he asked.

Wendell shook his head. "Oh, no. Very private girl. Keeps to herself. Doesn't say much. Never even saw the inside of her place."

"Her place, where is it? Which room?" the Doctor asked.

Wendell shifted his weight. "Err, room 407."

The Doctor nodded before leaving, "Thank you, Wendell. I'll get her back safely."

"Err… alright then."

The Doctor took the elevator down to the fourth floor. It dinged open and he nearly crashed into two women getting on the lift.

"Excuse me, ladies," he nodded, stepping off.

"She looks dead," one whispered, "You don't think she…?"

"Would you really be surprised?" the other laughed. "It wouldn't be the first attempt."

The Doctor stuck his foot out, stopping the lift doors from closing. They bounced back open and he stepped in.

"I'm new here," he said, drawing close to the second woman, "Would you mind telling me what's funny about someone trying to take their life?"

The woman was no longer laughing. She flushed and stepped back. "I, err, well I, I didn't-"

"You didn't _what_? You didn't mean to imply it was funny or you didn't believe anyone would question you about it?"

She opened her mouth to say something but the Doctor cut her off.

"No, no," he chided, "You're not talking anymore. In fact, why don't you try something new and _think_. It might take some getting used to; it may even hurt a bit, but try it. I want you to think about your life. You're cold callous way of life and ask yourself…"

He stepped within an inch of her face and spoke quietly, "Why do you bother living?"

The Doctor searched her face. Satisfied that she got the message, he turned and stepped out of the lift. "Oh and by the way," he added, "I take back the comment of 'ladies'."

Humans were infuriating sometimes. They were either wonderful and brilliant or dull and nearly evil. He turned his attention to Miranda as she groaned slightly. She didn't wake. The Doctor reached room 407 and paused. He shifted her position so that she leaned against his shoulder and was able to be supported with one hand. With his freed hand, he reached into his jacket and retrieved his sonic screwdriver.

He sonicked the door open and entered the small flat. He didn't find the light switch so he proceeded in the dark, causing him to hit his head on a low hanging object, knock his shin into a hard table and nearly trip over some unidentified item on the floor.

"Bloody hell," he muttered to himself, "It's like a mine field in here."

The Doctor managed to navigate to her room and carefully set her down on her bed. He clicked on a bedside lamp and got a better look at her. She looked pale, sickly almost and had purplish dark circles under her eyes. Her hair was a light color that was more brown than blonde and was badly tangled.

Just as he was pulling her comforter over her, he spotted something. A bruise on her wrist. He gently took her hand and examined it. The bruise was man-made as it had clear finger marks. His jaw clenched. He was tempted to look for other bruises but knew it'd be horribly invasive and inappropriate. He turned her arm over in his hand and looked at her sadly.

On the inside of her arm was a long thin scar. A line that ran from her wrist to her mid forearm. He checked her other arm and sure enough, there was a matching scar.

"Oh, Miranda…" he sighed dejectedly, looking at her sleeping face, "Who drove you to do this?"

The Doctor sat on the edge of her bed for a moment, searching her face for some kind of answer. When none came, he stood and put out her light, walking into the main room. He managed to find the light switch and saw that it was a hanging plant that he had bumped his head on earlier. Its leaves were dry and shriveled.

All of the walls and windows were covered in thick curtains. A _bit_ eccentric, he thought to himself. He strode over to a table covered in scattered papers and rifled through them. Okay, so it was rude to go through her personal things but he needed information in order to help her. What was causing these nightmares? And more importantly, who was abusing her?

He picked up a crumpled letter and unfolded it. It read:

_Dear Miranda,_

_I hope you are well. You haven't returned any of my calls but I'm only concerned for you. Your father tells me that I shouldn't bother anymore but I know, when you're ready, you'll contact me. You're probably still cross with me for sending that therapist but I only had good intentions in doing so. Please believe me. I only want to help you._

_These dreams of yours are eating away your life. It's not your fault, honey. You just need someone's help in getting rid of them. I know you don't want medication but it could help if you gave it another chance. I enclosed a business card for another doctor. Please give him a chance. Call me soon._

_I love you,_

_Mummy_

The Doctor put the letter down and pursed his lips. "Of course, typical humans. If you don't understand something, cover it up. Drug it, hide it, lock it up! Never solves anything. Good thing Miranda realized that… though it doesn't seem to have benefited her much."

There was an old photo album. The Doctor flipped through it. In the beginning, the photos of her seemed brighter. Miranda looked loads healthier than at present. She was with what he assumed were her family and friends in most pictures. He noticed most of her smiles were faked. Further on, she stopped smiling altogether. Then all of the pictures were self taken and she was by herself.

He saw she went through a gothic stage, having dyed her hair pitch black. It made her look like a ghost against her pale skin. She wore a lot of dark makeup and even sported a nose ring which was most likely a fake since he didn't remember seeing a hole. What disturbed him was the content of the pictures.

Most were of her reflection in a mirror. The majority of them, she was in only her underwear or had her top off. But that wasn't what bothered him. What upset him was the bruises and cuts across her body. The Doctor had seen a great number of horrific things and it took a lot to shake him but these pictures were unnerving.

The Doctor shut the album and set it down, opting to inspect something else. A book caught his eye. It had a worn leather cover and a small lock on it. He sonicked it open and realized it was her diary. The front was written in curly handwriting.

_This is property of Miranda Courtney Cole _(hearts on either side of her name)_ Do not read OR ELSE!_

The first entry:

_12-27-2006_

_Today was wonderful despite last night's episode. I was having a bad day until I ran into the best person ever! Brain Johnson! He actually smiled at me and said hello in his gorgeous voice! I can't believe he knew my name! He's sooooooo cute and sweet and smart and funny and-_

The Doctor skipped through, not wanting to intrude any more than he had to. He paused here and there, when a word caught his eye. Towards the back, as was with the photos, it started to get darker. He noted that her handwriting had lost its girly charm and seemed frantic and sometimes illegible. Most of the entries were spaced out, with months separating them. There was no more carefree gossip. There was no mention of a boyfriend or any sort of cause that could explain her abuse. It wasn't self inflicted. He was sure of that.

Something caught his eye on a page. Small circular smudges over the penned words. "She wrote this when she was crying," he said quietly to himself.

_4-14-2010_

_It happened again. I couldn't take it and wanted out. It was the only way to escape him. There was so much blood; I don't know how I didn't die. But I passed out and that was my mistake. He was so angry. I was actually afraid of dying then. Afraid of him killing me. Afraid of what he'd do before that._

_I don't know why he kept me alive. Why he always does. What does he want? Almost twenty years and he still won't tell me. I think it's a laugh for him. A bit of fun at my expense. Sometimes, when he's really cross, I wish he'd just end it though. I can't take this anymore._

_8-02-2010_

_I wish I was crazy. That way it wouldn't hurt as much. I wouldn't care that none of this made any sense. I wouldn't care if the Nightmare Man was angry or pleased. I wouldn't mind the scars or the sight of his shadows. _

_Was I stupid to put them on the walls? Doesn't he haunt me enough? Somehow, it didn't bother me as much. It felt right to make them known. To remind myself that they were real, even if it's all in my head. Maybe that's what he wants. For me to go insane and live in my head. That way, he'd have me to himself all the time. It's frightening to imagine; being trapped in my nightmares with no reprieve. Forever at the mercy of the Nightmare Man._

_To think of him churns my stomach. What's worse is to look into his face. To see his cruel eyes and his twisted smile. He's always in my head. He lives there. I do not believe he can know what I think however he does know me too well. He knows my fears and weaknesses better than I and uses them to his advantage. _

_I can never be rid of him. Even when awake. Sometimes, when I shut my eyes, I can hear him. I can hear his voice so clear in my mind, I am not sure if it is imagined or not. His cruel laughter often echoes through my skull._

_But the sound I despise most is his foul heartbeat. How is it that I hear it anyway? It's inhuman and abnormal. Four beats in quick succession. Lub dub, lub dub. Lub dub, lub dub. It's almost poetic and even more ironic that the most merciless and vile man in the whole world has two hearts._

The Doctor froze, his mind reeling. The diary fell from his hands as he raced over to a wall. He grabbed the thick fabric in the hands and yanked hard. It made a ripping noise as it was pulled from the haphazard nails at the top. On the wall were tall black figures, smeared and smudged in charcoal. They all reached up to the ceiling but varied in width, some thick and others thin. Each had jagged spikes near the bottom as if it were a cloak pooling at the ground. Their eyes were two white rounded orbs indefinitely staring.

But they weren't what he was looking for. He tore down another curtain. More shadow creatures, same as the others. And another curtain revealed several more imposing shadows. Only one curtain remained. The Doctor stood in front of it, shaking slightly. He walked up to it slowly and took a hold of the dark fabric. In one swift motion, he tugged it down.

His eyes widened as he saw the charcoal drawing. There were more tall shadow creatures but in the center of them was a figure. A man that looked all too familiar. He was wearing dark slacks, a button down shirt covered by a sports jacket, and a bow tie. His hair was dark and combed over to one side, partially hiding his face. The drawing's expression was what most alarmed the Doctor. The cruel and mocking look on his features seemed warped and unnatural.

The Doctor took a step backward, feeling rather numb at the terrible realization. His gaze never left the malicious charcoal eyes that stared back at him. His shoulders slumped slightly and he looked rather grief-stricken.

"The Nightmare Man," he whispered, "…is me."


	3. Chapter 3

AN: This took longer than expected. I had to redo it three times because I wasn't happy with it. Still not but I can't think of how to improve it… Hope you like it anyway. Oh, and thanks so much to all of you that reviewed! It means so much to me! It case it isn't obvious _italics_ indicates dream sequences.

Btw, who else's mind was blown when that lil girl regenerated? Speculations?

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><p>Chapter Three: Fingernails and Forests<p>

_Miranda found herself in a dense forest. The trees were tall and old, with most branches too high to reach. Beyond the trees was an orange red sky. The sun was either rising or setting; she couldn't be sure. She picked herself off the ground, wiping leaves and debris from her nightgown. Her clothes always mirrored what she was really wearing in real life. She wasn't sure why exactly but it sometimes made her lose sense of reality._

_She knew this forest. Each day she'd walk through it to and from elementary school. The serenity of the forest had always helped her calm down and put aside the previous night's nightmare. But this dream replication made it seem eerie and unwelcoming._

_The Nightmare Man often pulled settings from her memories and made them into terrifying mockeries of the real thing. The places of her nightmares always held an underlying meaning. The significance of the forest was unknown to her since this was the first time he brought her there. It scared her. She liked being able to predict his moves, however unpleasant they might be. When he threw a surprise at her like this, it could never be good._

_She shivered slightly and began walking without direction. Miranda couldn't stand around waiting any longer. She didn't bother planning a path. It didn't matter which way she went; the Nightmare Man always made sure she ended up where he wanted her to. _

_He controlled everything here. Everything she could see, hear, smell, taste and feel. But he never directly controlled her. Not because he couldn't, oh she was quite sure he could! But he didn't control her because he found it more amusing to make her bend to his will. At first, Miranda tried to resist him. She fought with all she could and more but it all proved futile. You can't beat someone that commands the whole world, dream world or not. It might as well have been real._

_The safety of waking up had given her little reprieve. In the end, after facing the raw power of his temper countless times, she gave in. She had to play his mind games willingly or else risk setting him off. Not that it made much difference; his moods fluctuated like an ever changing storm, leaving her subject to his sudden rages. This was the only way, she had realized long ago. _

_After some time, the sun shrank away, throwing everything into a thick blackness. Miranda stumbled forward, uncertain and wary, her hands held out in front of her to keep from walking into trees. The crunch of leaves under her bare feet and the sound of her breathing was all that reached her ears. The dead silence of the forest unnerved her. It was unnatural and added to her increasing fear. She knew she was being watched. She could feel it. The pair of eyes watching her intently._

_Miranda considered stopping to try and listen for any other signs of life but knew better. She had to keep moving. She couldn't stop. She had to keep moving or else he'd get her._

_But he always gets you, she thought to herself, always._

_Suddenly her skin prickled and the hairs stood up on her neck and arms. The sensation of walking into a cobweb came over her and she frantically swatted the air until the feeling left. Miranda shivered involuntarily and began walking faster. Faster. He was coming. She just knew it. Her heartbeat quickened as she broke into a run. She deflected the worst of the trees she hit, simply rolling off of their trunks, undeterred. There was still a silence around her but she was certain he was following her._

_Her breath came out in short pants as sprinted through the forest. Soon her sides began to ache and her lungs begged for a break but she kept running. Despite her best efforts, her speed was far too slow for her liking. It seemed as if she was going at a moderate jog no matter how fast she tried to propel herself._

_Miranda suddenly felt herself falling forward. She landed face down on the forest floor and hit her head on something hard, a rock most likely. She groaned, feeling winded. Her exhaustion and aching muscles caught up with her and she couldn't find the energy to jump up and keep running. Propping herself up on her elbows, she put a hand to her pounding head. When she drew it back, it was covered in a warm substance. She didn't need to see it to know it was blood. _

"_Little Miranda," a male voice called to her._

_Her heart skipped a beat. She didn't move. A drop of blood rolled down to her brow. The Nightmare Man was here._

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><p>The realization left the Doctor with a knot in his stomach and a twinge in his chest. All of this time, his image was plaguing her. It was<em> his<em> face that she was frightened of, _his_ presence that set her nerves on edge, _his_ voice that made her blood run cold.

"No wonder she looked so afraid on the roof," the Doctor murmured. "I was her worst nightmare come to life."

He was positive, absolutely positive, that they've never crossed paths, in _any_ of his lives, not even for a split second on the street. So how was she able to dream of his image when they have never met? This wasn't a coincidence of any kind. The Doctor didn't believe in coincidences. And this wasn't a simple case of long term night terrors, he knew that much.

Every bit of this was disturbing but what he found most unsettling was the fact that something chose to imitate _him_, of all people, which made whatever it was _very_ dangerous.

The Doctor narrowed his eyes at the charcoal painting. Whatever that nightmarish creature was, it had stolen his face and practically made a mockery of his life. He was _the Doctor_; he helped people but this man, this thing, did just the opposite. It tortured that poor girl until she was ready to kill herself. He wouldn't stand for this. He needed to figure out what it was and what its motives were. Before, he had wanted to help her but now, he_ had_ to. Now, it was personal.

A pained scream rang out, bringing the Doctor from his staring contest with the creature's likeness. "Miranda!" he shouted, running into her room.

She was tossing and turning on her mattress, wailing and convulsing. A smudge of blood streaked across her forehead. The Doctor took her by the shoulders, shaking her slightly. "Miranda," he called to her, "Miranda, wake up!"

Miranda was still caught up in her nightmare; his voice falling on deaf ears. She was able to sense his hands on her and started to lash out, kicking and scratching at him. The Doctor backed off, staring at her as she screamed, unsure of what to do next.

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><p><em>Miranda held her breath, hoping that he'd leave but she wasn't that fortunate. His casual voice sliced through the silence once again.<em>

"_Have you already forgotten what I told you last year? Last year, April fourteenth?"_

_She didn't respond but tried to keep from trembling. She hated for him to know how scared she was, how scared she _always_ was around him. It was slightly less dark, she noticed, so she could make out vague shadows and shapes. He was standing in front of her._

"_I asked you a question, Miranda Cole!" he roared, swooping down and seizing her by the hair. She gasped as he pulled her head back. He grabbed her by the chin, forcing her to look at him. "You'll answer me when I speak to you!"_

"_Ah! No, I I didn't!" she cried._

"_Full sentences, Little Miranda," he corrected, "We shan't leave room for misinterpretation. Now try again."_

"_I didn't forget what you said," Miranda said in a shaky voice._

"_Good, good," he cooed, letting her go and standing. "Now tell me _what_ I said."_

"_P-please…"_

"_Tell me!"_

_Miranda let out a small sob and hung her head. "You said… If I ever tried to kill myself again, I'd better make sure it works."_

_The Nightmare Man looked pleased although somewhat malicious. He grinned at her, "Are you dead, Little Miranda?"_

_She hid her face in her hands, crying. The Nightmare Man kicked her over and pinned her down with his foot. He pressed down hard on her chest to the point where Miranda thought her bones would crack. _

"_Are. You. Dead," he growled, punctuating each word with an extra bit of force to her sternum. _

_Unable to breath sufficiently, Miranda shook her head in response. _

_He leaned closer. "What was that?"_

"_N-no," she managed to choke out._

"_No," he repeated, looking thoughtful._

_The Nightmare Man removed his foot and watched as she coughed. He stood straight and looked down at her, his face serious and somewhat manic. "Would you like to be?"_

_Miranda's breath caught in her throat and her heart seemed to both stop and race at the same time. She shook her head, feeling slightly dizzy. Was this really it? Would he finally kill her? Even though she had been moments from death when she jumped from the roof, she had welcomed it. But now, at his hands, it scared her. What if she was trapped here somehow? What if her soul or mind remained in this nightmare?_

"_I'll take your silence as an answer. Your answer being 'yes'," he said evenly. "Of course, actions speak louder than words. And what's louder than jumping off a building? So quite obviously, you want to die."_

_He laughed suddenly. It was a cold and terrifying sound._

"_So how would you like to die?" he asked her. "Bleeding out and death on impact isn't for you. No. Let's try something more… _memorable_."_

_Miranda was in tears by the time he paused to smirk at her. "Please, d-don't," she pleaded._

"_Full sentences, Little Miranda," he said in a sing-song voice._

"_P-please don't k-kill me," she sobbed, her voice quivering._

_The Nightmare Man pretended to look confused. "Don't kill you? I'm only trying to help you, silly Little Miranda. Think of it as… assisted suicide," he said with a grin._

_At this, Miranda only cried harder, making the Nightmare Man cringe. "Ooh, you were never this pathetic as a child. Ever. It's not a wonder that you wanted to end it all."_

"_Stop…"_

_He continued as if he hadn't heard her. "I mean you're a complete failure on top of it all. Can't hold a job. No friends. Even your parents think you're crazy. Are you, by the way? Could you even tell?" He shrugged. "No matter, you might as well be. When was the last time you spoke to either of them? Three years ago when you ran away?"_

"_Stop it!"_

_The Nightmare Man was suddenly quiet. He looked at her with venom in his eyes as he stepped nearer to her. "How dare you raise your voice to me," he spat, "I thought I taught you better. Clearly, you need a few more lessons in manners."_

_Miranda's legs seemed to have turned to rubber, refusing to comply with her demands to run. She wasn't sure if it was his doing or if she was just too scared to move. With some effort, she managed to scuttle backwards away from him. The Nightmare Man frowned at her, "What's this? You're trying to get away? You can run all you like but you'll never be able to run from _me_, Little Miranda. Without me, you'd be all alone. Don't you enjoy my company?"_

_The mad hammering of Miranda's heart filled her ears. Her awkward retreat was stopped as a tree trunk pressed into her back. She didn't dare take her eyes off of him. The Nightmare Man slowly ambled closer, watching as her fearful expression grew. _

"_Again, I'll take your silence as a yes," he drawled. "I'm a bit cross with you. I'm cross and you're in my world… _Anything_ could happen. You know, Little Miranda, you've really hurt my feelings."_

_He pouted at her. "Aren't you sorry?"_

_Miranda nodded vigorously, attempting to appease him._

_The Nightmare Man tilted his head to the side, his hair covering an eye. "Then do you take back what you said, or rather what you didn't say?"_

_She nodded again._

"_Speak, Little Miranda. I want to hear you say it."_

_She hadn't noticed how badly she was shaking until she heard her stuttering voice. "I-I enj-joy your c-company."_

_He stood up straight and raised his lip at her. His expression suddenly turned dark and sinister. Miranda's response was clearly not what he wanted to hear. "Now, my Little Miranda is not only rude but a _liar_!"_

_Miranda saw shapes moving in the darkness. The Shadow People were materializing. They only came when she was being tortured. She was suddenly on her feet and running away. The unexpected burst of energy was well welcomed but confused her. The natural instinct of fight or flight had been stamped out of her long ago but something urged her on now._

_Unfortunately, her escape was short lived. She had only gotten a few feet away before a pair of strong arms wrapped around her._

"_No!" she cried, trying to pry his arms off. "Let me go! Please!"_

_The Nightmare Man laughed at her feeble attempts to break free. "I told you there's no running from me."_

_The Shadow People were drawing closer and Miranda's frantic heartbeat started to become irregular. Lub dub, lub dub. Her eyes widened. It felt as though his hearts were beating inside her own chest. Lub dub, lub dub. _

"_Stop it! Stop it!" she implored, "Please stop it!"_

_He laughed, his cold breath on her neck. "What's wrong, Little Miranda? Aren't two hearts better than one?"_

_Miranda's head was pounding for some reason, making her feel nauseous and dizzy. Her legs went weak and her was body limp, beyond her control. Had she not been supported by his overly tight embrace, she would have collapsed. Was he doing this, she wondered. _

"_Oh that's right!" he exclaimed, snapping her out of her thoughts, "You were always afraid of heartbreak, weren't you? No boyfriends and whatnot. Two hearts would be such a curse for you, wouldn't it? In fact, _one's_ too much of a burden, isn't it?"_

_Miranda said nothing, feeling much too sick to even imagine composing a reply. She felt like her head was being split apart but this seemed to go unnoticed by the Nightmare Man who continued talking in a nonchalant manner._

"_Actually, Little Miranda, when you think about it, or better yet, I'll just think for you… You're better off with no heart at all," he murmured, his breath on her neck._

_Still holding her firmly, he grabbed her face and forced it towards his own. Miranda's vision was blurred by painful tears but she could still make out his trademark smirk. She was very close to him, she realized. Too close for her own comfort._

"_You won't feel a thing, Little Miranda," he said in a tone that was both quiet and dangerous._

_She blinked away a few tears and looked at him fearfully. "What..?"_

"_No, I lied. It's going to be quite painful," he told her and then grinned. "I'm going to make sure of it."_

_The Nightmare Man placed a hand on her chest, near her collar bone. _

"_W-what are you doing?" she squeaked._

"_Ripping your heart out!" he laughed._

_A malicious glint flashed in his eyes as he raked his fingernails across her chest. Miranda screamed and tried to pull away but her efforts were futile. She could feel blood dripping down her front as he dragged his nails through her flesh once more. The Nightmare Man's twisted laughter and her own screams blended together into a sickening clamor. _

"_Please stop!"_

* * *

><p>The Doctor was about to try to restrain her again when a sudden burst of red caught his eye. A small dab of deep crimson appeared through her nightgown. Slowly, it started to spread across the top of her chest. Miranda was suddenly still, panting heavily and sobbing in her sleep. The Doctor carefully stepped up beside her and gently pulled the collar of her night gown down, exposing only a modest amount of skin. He didn't quite believe what he saw.<p>

Four red parallel lines moved across her chest. It looked like claw marks, or more likely, fingernail marks. He subconsciously touched his fingertips with his thumb. It was as if an invisible hand were dragging its nails across her skin, leaving a grisly trail of torn flesh and blood.

"Stop… stop," she moaned, her face contorted, "Please stop it."

The Doctor set his screwdriver to a scanning frequency and waved it over her. The sonic screwdriver picked up on a strong psychic field above her almost immediately. When he went to trace it to its source, he found that there was no trail to follow. The psychic activity was being emitted from her or her mind at least. He didn't think she was doing this to herself.

"It's_ him_," the Doctor said to himself. "It's the Nightmare Man."

The Doctor put away his sonic and looked at her pityingly. He bent down, put his hands on either side of her head and spoke softly, his voice carrying through the temporary mental link he established.

"Miranda… It's time to wake up."

He didn't invade her mind but merely connected her to the outside world. He then gave her a mental jolt to snap her out of her nightmare. Miranda gasped loudly and jumped slightly. The Doctor let go and stepped back, giving her space. Her eyes were still shut tightly but he noticed she was trying to calm her breathing. It had worked, he thought, relieved. At least she was safe. For now.

Miranda brought a shaking hand up to her forehead then to the marks on her chest. She kept her eyes shut and turned onto her side, sobbing. The Doctor fidgeted uncomfortably as he watched her. He couldn't stand to watch her cry. He couldn't stand to watch _anyone_ cry, really, but was apprehensive about approaching her.

Just as the Doctor was deciding what the best course of action would be in the situation, she rolled over. Miranda stared at the Doctor, eyes wide and mouth gaping slightly. He smiled at her quite nervously and gave an awkward wave.

"Er, hello."


	4. Chapter 4

AN: Things will start to pick up after this. Thanks so much to those who reviewed! Reviews seriously keep me updating (hint hint) :D

On a side note, the TARDIS is Sexy! I love Neil Gaiman, right about now. Hope he stays on board!

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><p>Chapter Four: So-called Solitude<p>

"Please stop screaming!" the Doctor shouted.

Miranda continued to yell at the top of her lungs. Her back was flush against her bedroom wall as she wanted to stay as far away from him as possible. This was impossible. Miranda felt a rush of overwhelming emotions as she stood there, mere feet from her greatest terror. She broke into quiet sobs after her voice gave out. The Doctor looked at sadly, still keeping his respective distance.

"Miranda, please," he implored, wishing she could see the difference in him. He held up his hands to show he meant no harm. "I brought you out of that nightmare. I only want to help you."

The terrified young woman brought a shaking hand to her mouth and tried to control her breathing. She glanced at the connecting bathroom. It was only about five feet away. The way was open for now so long as he didn't block her way. There was a chance she could make it. She slowly edged to her left, her eyes fixed on the man before her. He made no moves towards her and didn't show any signs of knowing her plan. She took a risk and dashed for the door.

"Miranda, wait!" she heard him call but she was already inside.

The door slammed in the Doctor's face. He heard the lock click in place and paused outside. He considered sonicking the door but thought better. She was already scared out of her wits; he didn't want to do any more damage.

Miranda stood shaking in the tub, the furthest spot from the door. Her mind was reeling with confusion and questions. She could hardly draw in an adequate breath but she barely noticed. How could he be here? How could he exist outside of her nightmares? Could he control things here too? Was he going to kill her?

There was a soft knock, making her jump and gasp loudly. Her trembling hands covered her mouth, trying to take back her outburst. Maybe he'd go away, she hoped desperately. She stared at the door, her heart pounding, expecting it to fly off its hinges or burst open. To her surprise, neither happened.

"Miranda," came his voice.

Her heart skipped a beat. There was only an inch of wood between them. She wasn't safe. He was going to get her, like he always did.

"I know this is difficult to believe, I don't quite understand it myself but you have to trust me."

Miranda slid down into a sitting position, pulling her knees to her bloody chest. He continued talking to her through the door.

"I'm not who you think I am, Miranda. I'm not the Nightmare Man, I just look him like. No… no, _he_ looks like _me_… exactly down to the last detail." The Doctor ran a hand through his fringe, "Miranda, you have to trust me. I only want to help you."

He waited and was surprised when he heard her reply.

"That's what you said in the forest." she cried, "Your idea of _helping_ me was tearing my heart out!"

The Doctor grit his teeth, silently cursing this Nightmare Man. "That wasn't me," he growled, pressing his forehead against the door and sighed, "That wasn't me."

"Why are you doing this?" Miranda sobbed.

Everything he said meant nothing. There was no way to convince her of his real identity, not that he blamed her. It was all the Nightmare Man's doing. It was all of the Nightmare Man's brutal actions that he was now being held responsible for. The Doctor couldn't help Miranda if she didn't trust him. How could he gain her trust? How? If he wasn't there the next time she fell asleep, she could be hurt again, or worse.

The Doctor could hear Miranda crying though the door. He always had a plan. He always was able to do something. But now, now there was nothing he could do. Anything he tried to do to help only made things worse. Just his being there was traumatizing for her. Frustrated, the Doctor slammed his head on the door and then his fist. He shut his eyes and drew in a long breath through his nose, finally deciding on a course of action.

"Miranda Cole, I'm going to do something the Nightmare Man never did. I'm going to do something that he would never ever do." He said, opening his eyes to look desperately at the door as though staring into her eyes, "Miranda Cole, I'm going to leave you alone."

Miranda sat there unmoving. She didn't believe him for a moment. He had tried luring her into a false sense of security before. He promised kindness but always delivered pain. It had worked when she was younger but by now, she knew better. It didn't matter what he said, their interactions always left her with cuts and bruises.

She heard the front door open and close but she remained still listening. Her apartment was quiet aside from the dripping of her leaky kitchen faucet and the noises from the other tenants that filtered through the walls. Miranda didn't move. He was still out there. He had to be. He'd never leave her alone. He'd never give her peace. The Nightmare Man was always lurking in her dreams and now, by some horrific tragedy, he found a way to torment her in waking hours.

Was she going mad? He never appeared to her like this before. Could she still be dreaming? No, she didn't think so. It didn't feel the same. Maybe she was just hallucinating? No, it couldn't be either. He had touched her. That night on the roof, he had pulled her up over the side of the building. He was solid and very real. But how? It was baffling to her. If he could exist outside of her mind, then why hadn't he done it before now? It didn't make sense!

Miranda squeezed her eyes shut and rested her head on her knees, "Why is this happening to me…?"

By the time morning came, Miranda was exactly where she had been before, huddled in her tub. She forced herself to stay awake the whole night which took more effort than usual. Over the years she had become a bit of an insomniac but she sometimes found it hard to resist her body's demands for sleep. For the longer half of the night, Miranda had resorted to turning the shower on full blast and sitting under the freezing water to stay attentive.

Finally, she couldn't take waiting any longer. The anxiety was building and building and she couldn't stand it. She carefully climbed out of the tub, still considerably wet. Miranda grabbed the knob and turned it a fraction so that the lock clicked out of alignment. After hesitating a moment, she quickly whipped the door open, expecting the worst.

There was nothing. Miranda crept across her bedroom slowly, waiting for something to jump out at her. She reached under her bed and pulled out an old hammer. Holding it ready to swing, she searched the rest of her flat. Again, nothing seemed abnormal. She let her tense shoulders drop and she tossed the hammer aside, collapsing onto into a chair in her main room.

Miranda pushed her dripping hair away from her face. She rested her chin in her hands and sighed. This was too much. She stared at the papers scattered across the table and paused. Her brows furrowed. Her diary was open. She picked it up slowly, touching the lock with her finger.

"How did this get open..?" she asked herself, looking up.

It was then she noticed that her walls were bare. The thick curtains she had put up had all been ripped down. Miranda stood up as she stared at the charcoal image of her tormentor. She searched his face for a moment and turned away. That expression that he always wore, that sinister evil look had haunted her for her nearly her whole life. .. Why hadn't it been on his face that night? His expression had been one she had never seen before, he looked…sad.

Miranda shook her head and got up to make some tea. She needed caffeine. She had to not only stay awake but alert as well with this…creature running about. After downing the whole kettle, Miranda checked the clock and decided to get dressed.

Believe it or not, she had a job, for now at least. The rent wasn't going to pay itself… Working also took her mind off of_ him_, sometimes. It was relatively new, having only started last week. It was only a matter of time before she got sacked. After one too many 'sick days' or customers complaining about her less than inviting character, she'd undoubtedly lose her job. Miranda was used to it now and it didn't bother her, especially since she couldn't stand the line of work she was stuck in. She waitressed at a small diner, meaning she had to interact with people which really wasn't her forte.

To make matters, it was a stylized 50's diner. The uniform alone was murder; pink, frilly and a tad too short for her liking. She was able to wear clothes over top of it to hide her scars and bruises without being questioned. A navy sweater and leggings were today's cover up. She silently thanked the overcast sky; her excuses for wearing heavy clothing on nice days were getting old.

Miranda didn't bother trying to comb her tangled hair and threw it into a ponytail with the work-required pink ribbon (It was that or one of those stupid little hats). She grabbed her purse and headed out. She hit the button with the arrow pointing down and waited by the lift.

"Hullo,"

Miranda spun around then relaxed a bit. "Hello, Mr. Johnson." She said softly.

He smiled cheerfully, "It's jus' Wendell, really."

She nodded and turned back to the lift. Wendell didn't leave. "Off to work?" he asked.

She nodded again. The lift dinged open and she stepped in, as did Wendell, much to her discomfort. Her landlord was a nice man but Miranda wasn't used to small talk. She tended to avoid people and their questions. It was easier that way.

"My brother was a sleepwalker." Wendell said suddenly.

Miranda looked at him oddly and gave a quiet, "Hm."

He continued, "He also slept in the nude. You can imagine how terrible that combination was. My parents had to put a lock on the outside of his room after he went about the neighborhood one night... Course I shared a room with him so… it was traumatic."

Miranda became increasingly interesting in the floor. Wendell coughed, "Well, er, what I meant to say was that uh… I can understand what you're going through. Sort of."

She nodded, not wanting to be rude, although she had no idea what he was talking about. The awkward silence that settled over them was cut off by as the lift opened. Miranda rushed out of the building, trying to relax. She was too focused on not crashing into people on the pavement that she took no notice of the overly suspicious figure following her.

The Doctor kept a good distance behind Miranda, not wanting to gain her attention. He had on, what he believed to be, an ingenious disguise. He was wearing the black leather jacket that his ninth regeneration had been fond of along with a pair of dark jeans and converse. Aviators hid his eyes and a black fedora covered his floppy hair. Fedoras were cool.

Miranda walked into a diner and he entered a few moments later, seating himself at a far corner. He raised his brows looking at the décor.

"Fifties. How… retro." He decided.

Miranda disappeared into the back and came out… on roller-skates. The Doctor tried to suppress a smile as she skated over to a table, clipboard in hand. She gave the customer a smile which he could tell was forced and took their order. _Oh Miranda Cole_, he thought to himself, _brave Miranda Cole, facing each day alone after facing each night alone…How do you do it?_

"Hiya!"

The Doctor jumped slightly, looking up at a blonde woman on skates. Somehow the waitress snuck up on him.

"What can I get for you today, sir?" she asked.

"Oh…" He hadn't come in to eat anything but he figured it'd look odd if he didn't order. Glancing briefly at the menu, he answered in a sad attempt at a Yorkshire accent. "I'll 'ave eh numah thir'een, hold t' cheps, eh side o' t' de'sart spe'al an' eh cupa 'Arl Greh."

He grinned, feeling pleased with himself. The blonde waitress stared a moment, then reviewed what she wrote on her notepad. "So that's… a number thirteen without the chips… the dessert special and an Earl Grey?"

"Yep."

"One moment, sir…" she said giving him an odd look.

Miranda walked towards the kitchen window and called out an order. She slapped the paper on the counter and nearly ran into one of her co-workers. "Sorry, Laura." She muttered.

"No problem, Andy."

"It's… just Miranda."

Laura laughed and gently hit her in the shoulder. "Sorry, keep forgetting. Hey, you know that bloke in the corner? Weird fella…"

Miranda followed her gaze to a man in a fedora who was currently hiding behind a menu. She shook her head, "I don't think so," she replied quietly.

"Get this, he orders _fish fingers and custard_." Laura said disbelievingly and shook her head, "Why do we always get the nutters?"

Miranda shrugged and went back to work. It might have been her imagination or her paranoia but she could've sworn that the man in the corner kept peeking over the menu at her. _Why was he even using the menu still? He already ordered…_ Miranda tried to ignore the feeling in the back of her mind, the nagging feeling that kept telling her something wasn't right.

The Doctor watched her closely, his admiration for the young woman growing. Her posture and body language was that of someone extremely uncomfortable. She kept her head down and stood slightly hunched, often with her arms crossed over her chest. Her voice was only heard when necessary and was only a bit louder than a whisper. But all the same, she didn't falter. Not once did he see her show any sign of weakness. After all she's been forced to endure, Miranda Cole was one of the strongest people he ever met. The Doctor smiled slightly.

Suddenly, Miranda looked up at him. He ducked behind his menu that he'd been using as a wall. Okay, he wasn't the most inconspicuous person. Perhaps he should have just waited outside…

"Sir, are you going to pay your bill?"

"Gah!" he jumped, looking up at the waitress next to him. "What?"

"Your bill. You've been here for seven hours and haven't paid or ordered anything else." She stated impatiently.

"Oh, um…" the Doctor patted down his clothes and looked at her sheepishly, "Left my wallet in my other coat?"

She furrowed her brow. "And your accent too, huh? I'm going to have to get the manager, sir."

The Doctor looked around for Miranda as the waitress disappeared into the back. He heard the bells at the front door jingle and he whipped around. Through the window, he could see Miranda walk down the street. He leapt up and ran out the door, just as a cross looking manager emerged from the back room.

He caught up with Miranda somewhat easily as the streets were becoming less crowded. That also meant that he had to put more distance between them so as to avoid being seen. It was just about to become dark; he didn't know how she could stand working what seemed like a triple shift. It was so dull.

The Doctor stopped just short of the Ellsworth Flats. Miranda stopped suddenly and turned around, making the Doctor scramble behind a nearby building. He peeked out a moment later and watched her disappear into the building before returning back to his still recovering TARDIS.

He learned one thing today, one very important thing. Miranda Cole wasn't just a suicide jumper, she wasn't just someone going through a horrific time that chose a cowards way out. He now knew that she jumped to get her life back, not end it. That act was the one thing she could have done to outwit her Nightmare Man, the final laugh. Miranda Cole jumped because she was strong.

Miranda trudged up to the elevator. Her feet were killing her, having been on skates all day. She had covered for two other waitresses that day, not because she was nice or because she could use the extra pay (though she could). But merely to keep her awake and her mind off of everything.

The lift opened and she stepped in. Just as the doors were closing a hand shot out, reopening them, to reveal a blonde woman. Miranda cringed. Clover Benfield, an annoying gossipy thing that lived in the flat above hers. She always tried to act posh and show off to her groupie friends by degrading people. Clover gossiped about everything that moved as if she were still an idiot teen. Miranda couldn't stand her. She couldn't recall a single decent thing Clover ever said to her but a dozen nasty rumors that she spread behind her back.

"Hi." Clover said a bit too loudly.

Miranda hunched her shoulders defensively and turned away slightly. There was no point in trying to be polite; she wasn't worth it.

Clover cleared her throat. "How are you… doing?"

Miranda furrowed her brow and looked at the blonde, expecting to see her snickering. Instead, she looked almost desperate, as if she needed to have a normal conversation with her.

"What?"

Clover repeated herself.

"Alright, I guess," Miranda said softly, still suspicious of her intentions.

"That's good!" Clover said enthusiastically nodding.

Miranda was more than weirded out by her sudden change in demeanor. When the lift opened to her floor, she was more than happy to part ways.

"Oh, and tell your friend I asked about you, kay?"

Miranda turned around. "What friend?"

Clover looked confused. "You know, that man you were with last night."

Miranda stopped the doors from closing. "What man?" she asked urgently.

"Oh er I didn't catch a name… Your boyfriend or something?"

"What'd he look like!" she shouted, somewhat scaring the blonde.

"Normal-ish, I guess. Well, not really. I mean-"

"Spit it out!"

"A -a bow tie!" Clover exclaimed, "He was wearing a bow tie and had silly hair. Oh! Don't tell him I said his hair was silly! I'd hate to stay on his bad side; had a bit of a temper… he _is_ your boyfriend, right?"

Miranda stared past the rambling blonde. A cold feeling washing over her. _I'm not the only one that saw him… He's really here…_ She backed out of the lift, not hearing what else Clover said. Miranda felt numb. She let herself into her flat and slunk down against the door. There was no refuting it now, no room for denial. Her Nightmare Man was here. And it was only a matter of time before he came back.


	5. Chapter 5

AN: Thank you all so much for your feedback! I seriously wouldn't have gotten this done so quickly! Enjoy!

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><p>Chapter Five: The Hanging Question<p>

Miranda Cole lay sprawled on her back in the middle of her dark flat. A dull kitchen knife sat in her palm. Her fingertips gently rested on the handle that she had previously gripped tightly. She appeared relaxed but her heart was thundering away. One might have questioned her intentions with the knife but after a glance around the room, it became quite clear.

Moments ago, Miranda had exhausted all of her energy in a mad fury. She had stabbed and gouged at the wall as if she meant to dig through. On the plastered walls were long gashes, random but deep. On one wall in particular, a heavy concentration of slashes covered one spot. The spot where her Nightmare Man had been sketched in black.

She had obliterated the image. His face was indistinguishable, a grotesque collage of charcoal and wall scraped white. Miranda had attacked him as if he were really before her. She had slashed and sliced at the image as if trying to draw blood from the wall.

"What do you want from me?" she shouted, hitting the wall. "What do you want…?"

She collapsed, angrily wiping tears from her face. If he was going to kill her, why couldn't he just do it? Why put her through all of this? Why was he here?

Miranda nearly jumped out of her skin when a knock sounded at her front door. Her anger quickly turned to fear. She clutched the knife to her chest protectively. The second knock sent a shiver up her spine.

"Miranda? Miss Cole?"

She relaxed and let out a sigh. It was her landlord. She went to the door but didn't open it. "Yes?" she said loud enough for him to hear. She was surprised it sounded clear and almost confident.

"Are you alright?"

"I," she stopped as her voice cracked. That was more like it, eh? She collected herself then spoke again. "I'm fine."

Miranda waited until Mr. Johnson's footsteps faded down the hall. She let out a shuddering breath that she didn't realize she had been holding. She walked into the center of the room and lay down on the hard wooden floor. Her eyes closed with some resistance and she held back tears. The dripping of her faucet was soon overshadowed by the pounding of her pulse.

She opened her eyes, letting a tear run into her hairline and whispered to herself, "Is this ever-"

* * *

><p>"-Going to stop?" the Doctor exclaimed, diving away from the main console as a bolt of electricity shot from it.<p>

The electromites were trickier than he expected. This was a mutated species, much more resilient. They were able to move in packs and feed off of each other. It wasn't cannibalism, none of the electromites died out. Instead, they refueled themselves on the others and once strong, the others fed on them. It was a vicious cycle.

A swarm of the electromites shot past the Doctor's head, just barely missing him as he ducked. He took out his sonic screwdriver and set it to setting 59. The claw extended and its green center let out a whine. The electromites became pulsing wildly and started growing.

The Doctor's eyes widened and he quickly released the button on the screwdriver. "That wasn't supposed to happen! Fifty-nine's the electromagnetic jammer frequency!" he exclaimed as the swarm zoomed towards him. Without much else to do- he ran!

He went up the staircase closest to him and down the hall. "Come on!" he shouted to the TARDIS "Can't you point me in the direction of a safe room? Or a room? Or a safe?"

Hearing the static buzzing increasing, he knew he couldn't outrun them anymore. He dropped to the ground and looked up to see the swarm fly over him. Taking their moment of confusion, he jumped up and ran down another corridor.

He finally came upon a door that he didn't remember being there. "Thank you, ol' girl!" he grinned as he hurried inside. His smile dropped and he scowled.

"The pool? Really?" he critiqued. "A bunch of flying _electric_ pests trying to kill me and you send me to the most conductive room possible? I don't need the Daleks when I've got you!"

The swarm of electromites found him. The Doctor squared his shoulders to face them as they hovered above the pool. "Alright, you got me!" he told them and they buzzed louder. They seemed to be laughing and the Doctor joined in, albeit mockingly. "_Yes, yes_, it's _hilarious_. You sneak in _somehow_ and suddenly take command from a Time Lord! Keep laughing!"

A thought suddenly struck the Doctor. He fiddled with the sonic screwdriver behind his back. The corner of his lips turned up in a slight smirk. "But you know what? I don't think you'll find _this_ funny!"

He whipped the sonic in front of him and it whined louder than before. The swarm of electromites began to morph shape from a large sphere to a smaller less organized mass. The now individual electromites began to vibrate rapidly to the point where they were a blur. Suddenly they sprang out in separate directions, trying to escape the screwdriver's waves. Each of them disappeared into walls and ceiling, leaving the Doctor alone in the pool room.

"Setting…_sixty_-nine," he said as if remembering. "Sixty-nine..."

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><p>Miranda felt herself falling. She tried to stir herself awake. She willed herself to stop but her efforts were futile. She felt herself being thrown into another nightmare. There was never time for fitful sleep. Never a dreamless sleep, not for her.<p>

_She found herself in a field of tall dead grass, a grey sky overhead. Miranda found herself here too many times. This field was where she used to play when she was younger. Her family used to stop there for picnics when they traveled to visit her aunt. But here, this place was like a twisted mirror image. All the color had been drained of the place. She stood, knowing what she had to do; what he wanted her to do. _

_Miranda pushed through the thick blades of dry grass. They became thicker and taller as she walked so soon they towered over her head. It seemed like she had been walking for ages but it was only a trick. Like in any dream, time operated differently there. A few moments could feel like hours and a few hours could feel like mere moments. Adjusting to the time was exhausting. Not even a minute passed before the setting started to change. _

_The ground that had been firm under her feet suddenly went spongy as it turned to mud. She sunk down to her knees but knew it would stop there. It always did. It was increasingly difficult to keep going but forced herself to. Sometimes if she took too long or paused to rest one time too many, things would get nasty. The Nightmare Man was not patient at all._

_After a grueling few minutes which she perceived to be an hour, the next stage of the dream began. Miranda was suddenly in waist deep water, still in the wheat field. With each step she took, the water rose higher and higher, forcing her to swim. She started to panic. She had a fear of drowning. This part always scared her, even though she knew the outcome. She'd make it through to the other side of the field, slipping only three times._

_Something brushed her leg. She froze. That had never happened before. Ever. And it terrified her beyond anything. The unexpected was something to fear here. When things changed, he was angry._

_Miranda looked down, trying to see through the murky water. Whatever was down there touched her on the knee and she gasped. She moved away as quickly as possible yet tripped in the thick mud around her ankles. She came up gagging and coughing, having swallowed a good deal of water. There was a laugh in front of her._

_Her eyes widened and she tried to back up. Before her stood her Nightmare Man, standing on the surface of the water. _

"_You look scared, Cole. What's the matter?" he said to her, "Oh! That's right. Fear of drowning, I almost forgot. No... That's a lie, I'd never forget your fears but it's fun to pretend."_

_He strode over to her. "Your fear's clouding your mind, blocking out your swimming lessons. Aren't you lucky your feet can still touch the bottom? Oh, wait…"_

_Miranda looked up at him, frightened. _

"_No, that's not right. You're feet __**aren't**__ touching the ground," he smirked at her, "…anymore."_

_The muddy ground beneath her was suddenly gone and Miranda plunged under the water. She kicked the surrounding water furiously in a mad attempt to swim. The little breath she had, she held onto. It was fleeting, almost gone. A bubble of air escaped her lips. In desperation, she reached up towards the figure above her. _

_Her hand touched something solid above her. She grabbed it and pulled herself up, breaking the surface of the water. It has his shoe. Miranda gasped and clung to him. The Nightmare Man gave a mirthless laugh and bent down to her level._

"_What's wrong, little Miranda?" he cooed._

_She was now crying. It was starting all over. Just when she felt like she could stand up to him, he goes and turns her into a blubbering mess. Again._

"_Can't you pop out of your dream like you did last time?" he sneered._

_The Nightmare Man stood straight and tried shaking her from his foot. When that didn't work, he simply used his other foot to push her underwater._

"_You robbed me of my fun, you know." he said annoyed, even though she couldn't hear him. "I wasn't going to really rip your heart out! Figure of speech. It'd be such a waste to kill you, now anyway, you're young. You can take so much more so long as we keep you away from rooftops." _

_He nonchalantly removed his foot, letting her come up choking._

"_No, incessant torture is loads more fun. You should know that by now! It's only been… How long has it been, Little Miranda?"_

_Despite herself, she answered, not wanting to anger him anymore. "Thirteen years."_

"_No, no, be precise."_

"_Thirteen years and…four months?"_

_He snorted. "Thirteen years, four months, two weeks, five days, nineteen hours, thirty-five minutes and… seven seconds. In counting. Precision, Little Miranda, is key. Now, wait! Hold on, I've been rambling! Where was I…?"_

_Miranda looked up at him hesitantly, still clinging to his shoe. She felt stupid but didn't want to risk drowning in the seemingly bottomless depths._

"_Ah Ha! That's it…" he exclaimed then all of the false mirth drained from his tone. "How did you wake up from our last little get-together?"_

_She was afraid at first but then it dawned on her that she had done nothing against him. She hadn't woken up on her own. "I-I didn't."_

"_What?" he hissed. "Is Little Miranda __**lying**__ again?"_

"_No! No, I swear!" she cried._

_The Nightmare Man growled like a beast and grabbed a fistful of her hair. He yanked her up out of the water with almost no effort and threw her away from him. Much to her surprise, she didn't fall through the water's surface although it did bounce under her sudden weight. It vaguely reminded her of a water mattress, only without the plastic casing. _

"_I'll give you one more chance, Cole," he snarled._

"_Please, I'm telling the truth!" she said desperately. Was he playing another game with her? "You told me that you brought me out of the nightmare!"_

_He looked at Miranda as if she was mad. After a thought, he decided to humor her for the moment then catch her in a lie. It was amusing when she was disobedient. "Is that so?"_

"_Yes!"_

_He nodded, pretending to think it over. "And… when was this?"_

"_Yesterday, when you were in my apartment," she said uncertainly. _

_The Nightmare Man narrowed his eyes. She wasn't even trying to sound believable. "How could I have been in your apartment, stupid girl?" he growled._

"_I-I don't know," she admitted, "but you were there, and on the roof too. Even Clover Benfield saw you! You were pretending to be a doctor."_

"_Silly Miranda, you know that's imposs-" he stopped suddenly then looked frantic. His eyes grew wide and his mouth opened slightly in a silent 'o'. He looked as though something struck him. He raced over to her and jumped on top of her, pinning her to the watery ground._

"_Was there a police box?" he asked urgently, shaking her by the shoulders._

_Miranda only gaped at him, too stunned to respond. The Nightmare Man growled and plunged her head under the water's surface. He brought her up a moment later, coughing up water._

"_Did you see a blue box?" he yelled._

"_W-what? I don't know wha-"_

_He slapped her across the face. "A box, you idiot girl! Did you see a box? A blue box!"_

"_N-no!" Miranda shouted at him, confused out of her mind. "No."_

_The Nightmare Man stood quickly, paying her no mind. He began pacing on the water, creating waves of rippling that carried Miranda a short distance away. She stared at him, frightened. He was muttering to himself as if having a one sided conversation. He never acted like this. For once he seemed… worried._

"_It has to be there. It has to be. There's no other explanation. It must be HIM!" he spat, baring his teeth at the last word._

_The Nightmare man whipped around to look at Miranda's quivering form. He glared. "Why are you still here? Get out! I'm done with you!" He waved his hand in a dismissive manner and Miranda plunged under the water._

She suddenly awoke in her still dark living room, bewildered and breathless.

"Wha- What's a blue box have to do with anything?"


	6. Chapter 6

AN: Longest chapter so far! Hope you like it! As always, tell me what you think. Feedback=faster updates! :D

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><p>Chapter Six: A Single Match in the Dark<p>

The TARDIS was momentarily under control, somewhat. She was still very ill from the infestation but the electromite activity had died down for the moment. The Doctor took the opportunity to try and devise a plan to get rid of them all so he could better concentrate on Miranda.

"Alright, hundreds, no _thousands_ of electromites! All running around in every part of the TARDIS! Just great! Perfect even!" he shouted. "Turn off the power, they cluster. Sonic them AND THEY MULTIPLY!"

The Doctor threw his hands in the air in defeat. He crossed and uncrossed his arms then strode into his wardrobe. Inside were rows upon rows of clothing ranging from every era and decade on earth and even included some of the latest fashions from other galaxies.

"I _just_ can't win," he said holding up a trench coat then tossing it aside. "I seriously just _can't_!"

He was currently looking for a new disguise. Somehow, he had a feeling Miranda saw through the last one. Somehow. The Doctor shook his head. "I can't do anything right, can I?" he asked the TARDIS. "How about some accessories? They're always fun. Hats and such. Oh! What about a fez? Wait, no… it's not the time."

The TARDIS shifted a few rows, sending a rack of coats into the back and a new one of accessories forward. "Woohoo!" he exclaimed picking a pair of glasses and putting them on, "What do you think? Smart? Stylish? Sexy? Some feedback, _please_!"

He glanced in a mirror and grinned at himself. Suddenly a flash of light caught his eye and he looked at it. A single electromite was hovering nearby. He scowled at it.

"Oh, what's this? All by yourself?" he jeered. "You're about as harmful as socks on a shag carpet."

The electromite shot into the depths of the wardrobe and disappeared. The Doctor gave a short laugh. "Thaat's what I thought!"

The rack nearest to the Doctor began to move and then the others followed suit, rotating quickly. The clothes started filing by at lightning speed, the longer pieces leaning out and smacking him.

"Alright, I take it back!" he yelled, ducking his head.

Reaching into the blur of clothing, he snagged a fabric and pulled it out. He held up an old British Officer's uniform and threw it back. He next pulled out a striped shirt and shrugged. After pulling it on, he reached in again, trying for a new pair of pants. He pulled out a white ball gown and rolled his eyes.

"_No_, never again!" he told himself, cringing at a memory.

The Doctor threw the dress back and grabbed a silvery jumpsuit with spikes sticking out. He scoffed, "Oh those were _never_ in style." He next pulled out a pair of purple pants and considered them just as sparks started to fly from the spinning racks.

"Okay, fine! This'll do!"

The Doctor ran out of the wardrobe, struggling to pull on the pants that were a size too small, just as a boot rocketed for his head. He slammed the door and leaned against it for a moment. "Okay, on to Plan B," he took off down the hall. "Only I haven't thought of Plan B!"

He stopped in his tracks and ran in the other direction. "Wrong corridor! Wrong floor! Wrong _everything_!" he shouted as the TARDIS involuntarily rearranged itself. "I can't find anything in here!"

The extra electricity the electromites were generating was making the TARDIS interior go haywire. If he hadn't put on the emergency parking brakes, they'd have probably dematerialized to who knows where!

"Come on! Help me out here! Try!" he shouted to the TARDIS. "Do _something_!"

Without warning, a trapdoor opened swallowing him up. He let out a slightly girly scream as he plummeted though it. Luckily for him, it was the alternate entrance to the pool that happened to be directly above it. He hit the water hard and came up like a drowning cat.

"Why… is it _always_ the pool?"

The Doctor swam over to the side and hauled himself out. He flopped down on the side of the pool and groaned. "Seriously, electricity and water don't mix. Worst combination I can think of at the moment. "

He sat up slowly, a smile creeping on his features. "Or the _best_ combination I can think of…" he said, pushing his fake glasses up the bridge of his nose. He jumped up, his bare feet sliding on the floor, and took his screwdriver from his back pocket.

"Setting fifty-nine," he smiled, the sonic starting to whine.

Electromites started filing in from all directions and began to gather. They formed a large pulsing blue sphere that buzzed loudly. The Doctor grinned. "Oh no, it looks like I'm done for," he said lightly."I'm only soaking wet and you're only a big ball of angry electricity… What are you waiting for?"

He kept the sonic screwdriver going, making the electromite swarm increase in size and energy as it zoomed towards him. He shut his eyes as they surrounded him, stinging and zapping him with electricity but it only felt like warm static. The electromites completely encased the Doctor in a blue orb of wild electricity. But then suddenly, there was a loud 'pop' and they seemingly disappeared in a flash of light.

The Doctor released the sonic and looked around, mildly surprised his on the spot Plan B worked. He patted his now dry clothes and gave a lopsided smile.

"Well, that worked out nicely. You see," he said to the TARDIS, "I only just realized that you picked the pool for a reason. Water conducts electricity and that exactly what you intended to happen!"

"The electromites, when in their swarm formation, continually absorbed and gave off the same electrical currents," he explained aloud out of habit. "When I increased their maximum electrical output capacity, they cycled the electricity more rapidly than normal. And then! With their out of control electricity alongside the extra conductivity that my wet clothing provided, their little buggy bodies couldn't handle it! They all burst from the overload of the electrical charge!"

His average companion, not being able to keep up with his Time Lordy genius, would have then said, 'What?' to which he would have replied...

"WELL! Think of the swarm as a light bulb. What happens when you put too much electricity into one?"

He waited.

"BAM! It pops… Any questions?"

The Doctor looked around the empty room and let his shoulders drop. Right. Solemnly, he walked over to the edge of the pool and gazed at his reflection. His hair was a tad more unruly than usual. He ran a hand through it and walked away.

"It's no fun being brilliant when no one's around to 'ooh and aah'…" he muttered to himself.

He found his way back to the control room with ease, now that the TARDIS righted itself and was repairing the damage.

"Alright! First things first," he said loudly. "Put electromite detection at the top of the list, make it the _whirly_ alarm! We can't have this happening again. And now… back to business."

At the main console, he pulled out a small scanning pad and set the screwdriver on playback. It replayed the frequency it picked up while Miranda was having a nightmare. The hanging screen flickered on and began searching for a correlating match.

"It has to be somewhere… Everyone's got a psychic frequency their mind gives off, a mental fingerprint. The one I picked up with Miranda was a double frequency, her own and the Nightmare Man's overlapping," he said to himself as his computers worked. "I extract the obvious human brain waves and we're left with…"

The screen flashed and a message popped up. PSYCHIC FREQUENCY FOUND. (1)MATCHES .

"Yeah, here we go!" he whooped. "Alright, Nightmare Man! Let's see who you really are!"

He hit the equivalent of an 'enter' key and another message popped up. His smile dropped and he hit the key again. The same message appeared.

"This can't be right..." he said to himself.

The Doctor pressed the key several more times and then, frustrated, hit the screen. He ran a shaking hand through his hair and turned away from the console.

"This _can't_ be right," he repeated, this time more desperately.

He pinched the bridge of his nose and spun around to glare at the words that were mocking him. He hit enter and read them again, hoping beyond hope they would change. The results remained the same. On the flashing screen in big bold letters were three words, screaming out at him. MATCH: THE DOCTOR.

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><p>Miranda forced herself into routine. It was the only constant thing in her life that seemed under control. She sought refuge in routine, no matter how mundane it was. After every encounter with the Nightmare Man, she recorded the damage. She had been too startled by his appearance to do it the last time.<p>

Even though her apartment was completely dark, she was able to navigate it with ease. She walked into her bedroom and switched on the light. She cursed at the bright light and shielded her eyes. Cursing again as her eyes adjusted, she walked over to her nightstand and opened the top drawer. Pulling out her camera, she headed into the loo.

She removed her uniform and examined her still healing scratches. They were red and stung terribly. Lightly, she traced her own fingertips over them, barely touching the exposed flesh. She blinked a few times and brought up her camera. She mechanically snapped picture after picture, sometimes from an overhead angle and some from her reflection. When done, she dressed the wound with an antibiotic.

Pausing to glance in the mirror, something she didn't do often, Miranda stopped. She touched her face as if it belonged to a stranger. Her skin was pale and sallow. Her brown eyes were shadowed by a purplish ring underneath them. Despite her best efforts and a number of creams and concealers, her dark circles couldn't be hidden. She untied the ribbon and let her hair down, frowning at its typical dull color. It fell just past her shoulders and her natural subtle waves were a knotted mess. Although, detangling her hair was unbelievably frustrating, she set to the task. By the time she was done, she probably ripped out more hair than she untangled but it didn't bother her.

Ambling quickly out of the bathroom, she hooked her camera up to her computer and started to download the photos. She learned very quickly that having them developed in stores was a very bad idea. The nosy people always tried to get involved when they saw the content of her pictures.

Miranda turned away from her computer and dug out some clothes. Not being too fussy, she threw on some yoga pants and a thin long sleeved shirt. She sighed as her mind drifted back to her last nightmare.

"He seemed so shaken," she said to herself. "He wasn't acting either or messing with me... He was really angry. But _why_? And why was he so clueless about being in my apartment?"

She flopped down on her couch and looked at the damage she had done to the walls. Pursing her lips, she got back up and went into the kitchen. She scooped the appropriate amount of tea leaves into the kettle and filled it with water. She set it on the stovetop and started pacing the length of the kitchen, talking to herself.

"_Okay_, so he didn't know he came here. Maybe… he didn't? No that's stupid! He had to have! I saw him! Benfield saw him! He was definitely here!" she said earnestly, "Though that doesn't make me feel any better… "

Miranda kicked her refrigerator them immediately regretted it. She grabbed her sore toes and hobbled over to the counter for support. The kettle started to whistle.

"Okay! Shut it!" she shouted at it.

She let go of her foot and took the kettle off the fire. Grabbing a mug, she sat down at her cluttered table and filled it with tea. She took the steaming mug in her hands, soaking up the warmth it gave.

"He was here… but he doesn't remember it… How is that possible? And who was he talking about…? He said 'It must be him'. Who's him…? And _what the hell_ is a police box?"

Miranda pressed her lips to the warm ceramic mug but didn't take a sip. She shut her eyes, thinking. Whoever this person was seemed to unnerve the Nightmare Man. Maybe, if this person's even real, they could help… She opened her eyes and set the mug down. "Like hell," she muttered before getting up.

She put on a pair of trainers and left her flat, not bothering to lock up. If someone wanted to steal her things, let them. It had to be an ungodly hour in the morning, she thought as she stepped outside. The streets were empty and quiet. She glanced at the few streetlights illuminating the block before taking off at a steady jog.

This was another part of her routine. She only ran at night, the daytime proved to be too open. It gave her a momentary euphoria often called runner's high. Just for a moment, she was able to forget everything. When she ran, she was able to clear her mind but tonight was different. After a few moments of jogging, Miranda found her mind drifting back to the puzzles of her last encounter.

Back in my flat and even on the roof he seemed… different, Miranda thought to herself. He looked so sad, so completely miserable, it had shown through his eyes. Even his voice was laced with guilt. All of his malice and sadism just wasn't there. It was as if he was a whole different person. But he couldn't be. It was HIM. She knew his face and his voice. There was no mistaking it. Even his bloody outfit was the same down to the damned bow tie!

Miranda skidded to a halt and bent over, tears flowing freely. She dropped to her knees and balled her fists in her hair. A guttural howl escaped her lips that echoed down the empty street. She sat back on her heels and looked despairingly at the heavens. For a moment, she just stared, watching the grey clouds move slowly across the night sky.

So many questions flitted through her mind, none of them getting any closer to having answers. It was maddening. Her situation had gotten worse. This change was so sudden and unexpected; she didn't know how to react. She had fallen into the routine of her nightmares. She would fight off sleep until she couldn't anymore and then she'd be subject to him. There were bad nights and worse nights, both of which nearly killed her emotionally if not otherwise, but she was able to learn and get through it. But this was a situation she was unprepared for. The Nightmare Man was acting strange, like he never had before and quite frankly, she had no idea how to respond.

A droplet of water landed on her cheek. She wiped it away and pulled herself off the pavement, noticing that she cement was starting to dig into her knees. More raindrops started to land around her, creating dark spots on the pavement. She set off again at a slow pace, unbothered by the rain.

Miranda liked walking in the rain, even when it was a downpour. It was a bit of a cliché but she enjoyed the fact that the rain hid her tears. When she was younger and feeling on the verge of crying, she'd run outside and pray for rain. She had secretly believed the sky was crying with her, sharing her pain. Miranda blinked out of the memory as the cool rain picked up. Her clothes were soon soaked thoroughly and she had to blink rain droplets off her eyelashes to see.

It took a moment to orient herself for she had took off from Ellsworth Flats with no actual destination in mind. She was at a crossroad, but which one? She looked up at the nearest street post and began to read the sign. Just as soon as she saw the 'Gr' in the first word, the streetlamp went out. She glared at it.

"Just my luck," she muttered to it, annoyed. "Out of every lamp, _you_ had to be the one to-"

Another streetlight went out, this time behind her. She looked at it warily. To her left, another light began to flicker. Flicker. Flicker. She gulped, her heart starting to beat faster. The bulb steadied itself and returned to its normal glow. Miranda sighed in relief, feeling silly for being on edge. Then the light went out.

On instinct, she bolted towards the remaining light post on her right. As soon as she passed, it started to flicker. As she ran down the block, she could see the lights start to flicker and die, just as she passed. It was as if the darkness was chasing her. The Shadow People! Could they have found a way here too? Her thoughts were panicked and slowed her down a fraction. Pushing them from her mind, she ran as fast as her shaking legs could carry her.

Much to her relief, her apartment complex came into sight. She nearly grinned. Slamming into the glass door, she recoiled slightly. Miranda recovered quickly and reached for the handle. Inside the lights began to flicker. She backed up slowly. The lights went out inside and she stood there staring through the glass as if the darkness were a deadly beast in a cage.

What should she do? The other lights on the block began to flicker; streetlights, porch lights, everything. Her heart was racing. What was happening? She ran down the block but it wasn't fast enough. All of the lights went out ahead of her. She was in total darkness.

Miranda stopped. She tried not to breath, or at least not too loudly despite the loud hammering of the rain around her. It had to be the Shadow People. She squinted trying to see their moving forms or their white eyes but nothing stood out. As her eyes adapted, she could make out parked cars and buildings. Slowly, she crept backwards along the pavement, unsure of where to go. Upon turning around, she was startled to see a blue light some ways down the block. It was coming from an alley.

She licked her lips nervously. She felt both relieved and wary. The growing knot in her stomach told her to turn around but the feeling was drowned out by her fear. Like a moth to flame, she was drawn into the light. Miranda turned into the alley and let out a small sob at what she saw. It was a blue box.

In some sort of trace, she approached it slowly as if it were a ghostly image that would vanish if she was too hasty. Miranda held her breath as she stood before it, bathing in its blue glow. The box was wooden, painted a dark blue and stood about a meter over her. There were double doors in the front and two windows. On the top of the box was an encased bulb, which was giving off the blue light, and below that bordering the rim were the words 'Police Public Call Box'.

Her breath caught in her throat. The Police box. The _blue _Police box. This had to be it, the box the Nightmare Man had mentioned. But what good was it? She knew nothing about it or what it was for. For all she knew, it could make matters worse. She stepped closer to examine it. On one of the side panels, just below the windows, was a sticker for St John's Ambulance, bearing its trademark crest. The panel to its left was a white sign that read as follows:

_Police Telephone. FREE For Use Of PUBLIC. Advice & Assistance Obtainable Immediately. Officers & Cars Respond To All Calls. PULL TO OPEN._

She raised a brow at it. "What is this, a joke? Am I supposed to call the police and tell them to fight him off? That'll go over well," she snorted. "'Oh, hello, I'm calling about an abusive evil man. What' s he look like? Well, he's got floppy hair, wears a bow tie, oh and has two hearts. You heard me right, two hearts. Where can you find him? In my head, though, sometimes he goes for a stroll in my flat."

Miranda resisted kicking the tall box. "That'd land me right in the nuthouse!" She sighed and angrily pulled open the one panel. Inside was an old looking phone. Pursing her lips, she picked up the receiver and put it to her ear. There was no dial tone. She rolled her eyes and stuffed it back in.

"Perfect," she said dryly, "Just perfect."

Miranda was unsure of what to do. She doubted there were more of these boxes floating around town. This was it. The phone didn't work but… maybe someone was inside? Oh who the hell would be just sitting inside a box? She shook her head. Despite her doubt and uneasiness, she couldn't just walk away. This was probably her only chance, albeit slim, to find some answers. She had to take this risk.

Her hand hovered over the door handle. She stared at it, hesitating in spite of her determination. The rain continued to pelt her as she watched the droplets roll off of her fingertips. She withdrew her hand after a moment. For some reason, it didn't feel right to just open up the box and barge in. It was… rude. Since when did manners matter to her? Not really sure of what she was doing, Miranda took a deep breath, raised her hand again, feeling a bit silly. And knocked.


	7. Chapter 7

AN: Have to say it, thanks for the wonderful reviews! I feel like I say this every note but seriously, they help! I started drifting a few days ago... moving onto other fanfics but you guys and gals (I think you're mostly gals though lol) brought me back. So here we go! Enjoy!

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><p>Chapter Seven: Questions and More Questions<p>

"This isn't possible!" the Doctor shouted angrily. "It just isn't!"

He was pacing the main room swiftly, talking to himself and growing more frustrated with each passing second. Just when he thought he could make sense of it all, _this_ goes and happens.

"The results say it's me! But they're wrong! They have to be! I don't know _how_ but they _are_!" he shouted to himself. "I think I would know! I would know if I… tortured someone."

The Doctor paused in his rage as the possibility set in. What if he had, somehow, subconsciously…? No. Just no. He wouldn't even finish the thought. He clenched his jaw, angry that the notion crossed his mind even for a second.

None of this made sense, not even to him. A monster hiding in a girl's head. Okay. He could deal with that. Heck, he dealt with that every other day! But himself _being_ the monster? Actually _him_? No, no way. It was incomprehensible, impractical, improbable and completely totally impossible!

"How am I supposed to help her when I don't even know what I'm up against?"

He resisted hitting the console; it was the TARDIS' fault. He couldn't take it out on her. Instead, he opted for wrenching his fake glasses off and flinging them across the room. The Doctor ran his hands down his face, letting them rest on his neck as he tried to think.

"How am I supposed to help her..?"

Three sharp taps snapped the Doctor from his thoughts. He stared at the door, somewhat incredulous. Someone was _knocking_. Curious, he went over to the console and switched the overhead screen to security mode, showing the outside of the TARDIS. He raised his brows, even more stunned. It was Miranda, soaking wet with her arms crossed over her chest.

The Doctor gaped at the screen for a moment. How did she find him? WHY did she find him? He shook his head as she knocked again. He couldn't exactly leave her out there. Then again, he doubted she'd suddenly be all trusting but why else would she be there? Hold on, how'd she find out about the TARDIS? It didn't matter at the moment. What mattered was that she was outside and he was inside.

He hesitated. How could he let her near him after his revelation? _No_. That was impossible. He was not her Nightmare Man. It didn't matter what the results said, they had to be wrong. They just had to be! He watched as Miranda punched the TARDIS' door and turned to walk away, looking very cross. The Doctor gritted his teeth, unsure of how to handle this. Making a quick decision, he snapped his fingers, causing the doors to open.

Miranda stopped as a soft click sounded behind her. She turned and found the door open a crack. Her stomach twisted a bit. She had secretly been somewhat relieved when no one answered but now, she couldn't just walk off guilt free. She sighed and tried to look fearless. The doors opened inward, she noted as she carefully pushed one with her fingers. She could tell from outside that something wasn't right about that box but she stepped in anyway.

As Miranda entered the TARDIS, the Doctor was as still as a sighted Angel. Her eyes widened dramatically as she realized-

"It's…bigger on the inside," she whispered.

The Doctor smiled at this but noticed she wasn't smiling at all. In fact, she seemed more nervous than outright impressed. She took two steps into the TARDIS and stopped. The Doctor watched as her eyes scanned the room, taking in everything from the high ceiling to the glass floor, the many staircases, the elaborate and humming main console and then, finally, the Doctor himself. She blinked, probably trying to register her shock. She quickly overcame her disbelief at his being there as her eyes widened even more and her mouth opened slightly. The Doctor braced himself for what he knew was coming.

As if on cue, Miranda screamed. To make matters worse, the TARDIS took it upon herself to slam the doors shut causing Miranda to panic. She pounded on the doors, trying to rip them open, all the while screaming bloody murder. She didn't stop until her knuckles were red and sore. After realizing her efforts were futile, she spun around to face him. She looked him over, seeming remotely confused about his odd change in attire but still, altogether terrified to be this close to him.

It had to be a trap. She suddenly felt so stupid. Him mentioning the box, the Shadows chasing her towards it, it was so obvious now. The Nightmare Man wanted her there. He wanted her inside and she walked right in! Stupid!

"Miranda, calm down," he said, looking at her apprehensively. "I just want to talk to you, that's all."

Her eyes darted to each of the staircases then back to him. There was no outrunning him this time, no place to duck into and hide. Miranda pressed her back against the double doors. Her pulse was loud in her ears though it wasn't as erratic as she expected it to be nor was her breathing as ragged. In fact, she was stark still and becoming increasingly numbed.

"Judging by your surprise at my being here, you weren't looking for me," the Doctor said slowly, working it out. "But you were looking for the TARDIS, weren't you? Of course you were. Big blue box in the middle of the night, why would someone go knocking without a reason? They wouldn't. Miranda, you were looking for the TARDIS but not me …why?"

Miranda said nothing.

"Okay… let's try this a different way." The Doctor sighed, his patience wavering. He continued speaking as he slowly walked over to her. "I'll tell you again, I'm the Doctor. I'm only trying to help you. But you don't believe me. Why would you? Exactly, you wouldn't. So either way, whether it's true or not, I'm your Nightmare Man. That being said… why don't you humor me?"

The Doctor could see the fear in her eyes as she stopped in front of her. He hated having to resort to intimidation and scare tactics but she was a stone wall otherwise. The only way he could help her was if she cooperated. He leaned in closer.

"You don't want to upset me, do you?" he asked in a hushed voice.

A small whimper escaped her lips and she shook her head.

"Great!" the Doctor exclaimed, causing her to flinch. He grabbed her hand and hauled her towards the center of the room. "Here, sit down." he said, gently pushing her into a yellow jump seat. "I'll be right back! Don't move."

He ran off and then came back a moment later, carrying a bundle of cloth. It was a thick poncho, she realized as he unfurled it. Miranda tensed up as he draped it over her and ruffled her wet hair in an attempt to dry her off. She knew than to protest so she hung her head and stared at the glass floor like a child. She could see their reflections in it. He was smiling at her. Smiling, not smirking... Why was he smiling?

The Doctor stepped back after he was satisfied she wouldn't get sick or upset the TARDIS. She had been dripping everywhere. It would've been a matter of time before the TARDIS got annoyed with her. Leaning against the console, he looked her over, trying to gauge her fear. On a scale to ten, he'd say she was about… a seventeen, which wasn't too bad considering the other times they met it had been a forty at least.

"Okay! The name of the game is Q and A! Question and Answer. First question… When did these nightmares start?"

Miranda kept her head down but answered him nonetheless. "Thirteen years, four months… two weeks and er… I'm sorry. I can't remember any more. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry, that's fine. Thirteen years ago. 1998. How old are you, Miranda?"

"Twenty-three."

"You were nine when they started. Did they just suddenly begin with no warning? Or did something unusual happen beforehand? A flash in the sky, earthquake… meteor shower?"

Miranda glanced up at him for a moment then looked at her feet. Why was he asking such obvious questions? Was this another game? "The accident."

The Doctor tilted his head. "What accident?"

She licked her lips nervously. "The roof. I... It wasn't _really_ an accident."

"Oh, what is it with you and roofs!" the Doctor said exasperated. "This was _before_ the nightmares! Why? Why would you jump then?"

Miranda wanted to disappear. "I didn't."

"You didn't? You didn't jump and you didn't trip because tripping_ is_ an accident. So then…?"

"I was pushed."

The Doctor looked at her seriously. "By who?"

She sniffed and rubbed her eye. "I don't know. I never saw them. It was so quick."

"Who pushes a nine year old off the roof? What were you doing on a roof anyway?"

"Stargazing."

He smiled slightly then looked serious again. "Okay. Stargazing. Roof. Shoved. Hit your head and suddenly nightmares galore, right?"

She nodded.

"And you've always been physically hurt from them?"

"Well… they got worse when I woke up."

"When you woke up? When did you wake up? How much later, an hour, a day…?"

"A year."

"You were sleeping for a year. You were in a coma for a year. Your most vulnerable state, defenseless and without mental barriers. The perfect target for a mental parasite. It crept in and made itself at home… Whatever pushed you off that roof thirteen years ago wanted this to happen. It wanted the Nightmare Man to invade your mind…"

The Doctor looked up to see Miranda staring at him apprehensively. She looked more confused than scared, although her fear was still very apparent. He stood and held out a hand.

"We'll deal with the source later. Now, we tackle the problem at hand, the big bad boogie man. Come on."

Miranda got up but didn't grab his outstretched hand. He nodded and led her up a winding staircase and down a hexagonal corridor. "Don't mind the décor," he called over his shoulder, "We're in the middle of a remodel, somewhat."

"Where are you taking me?" she asked him nervously.

The Doctor beamed at her, very glad that she chose to speak independently. "To the wardrobe," he told her. "You can't go about wearing wet clothes, can you? Course not. You'll get a chill."

They came to the room and he flung the doors open dramatically. "Ta da! Oh…" he grimaced, looking in. The TARDIS hadn't gotten to sorting this out after the infestation, he realized, seeing piles of clothes everywhere.

"Well… It's still a_ bit_ impressive," he said dejectedly. "Just pull something on quick. I'll wait outside."

Miranda just stood there as he shut the door. Was he serious? Why was he acting so… She shook her head and looked around. Somewhat reluctantly, she started on the pile of clothes closest to her. Some of the pieces were really odd looking and others looked extremely old. Miranda didn't want to take too long for fear that he would become cross with her.

The first thing she found that looked about the right size was a teal colored dress. She sighed but put it on anyway. It fell above her knees and had three inches of dangling fringe. A rack extended in front of her, making her jump back. On it was a pair of sheer tights, a long pearl necklace and matching teal heels. She looked at it warily.

"No, thank you?" she said uncertainly.

The rack extended further, making it impossible for her to walk around it. Hesitantly, she took the items and watched the rack retreat into the wall. Was he watching her? She gulped and quickly threw on the rest of the getup. It felt like she was dressing for Halloween. Great. Her arms were too exposed; she thought and grabbed a coat at random. It was a reddish brown and fell to the end of her dress. Too big, probably a men's coat but she didn't care.

Miranda stared at the door and hesitated, hoping he wouldn't be waiting. He was, of course.

"Oh, you're a flapper!" he exclaimed, seeming pleased. "And hold on, that's my old coat! I love that coat. Loved the scarf more but oh well. Maybe I should wear a scarf from now on. What do you think?"

Miranda looked at him, somewhat afraid to answer. Instead, she shrugged.

"Yeah, you're right. It wouldn't work. My hair's not _poofy_ enough... Besides, scarves are a bit… Pond."

He was distant for a moment as if he was in another world then suddenly, his eyes darted back to her. He grinned. "Let's go."

The Doctor pulled Miranda through the halls of the TARDIS, feeling slightly more giddy than appropriate. He had to calm himself. This was serious. He wasn't Willy Wonka giving a grand tour to awestruck children. He was the Doctor trying to save a girl's life. A girl that was deathly afraid of him. Immediately, he sobered up from the thought and was somewhat angry at himself for getting distracted.

"Here we are," he said stopping suddenly.

Miranda kept from bumping into him, her eyes fixed on the hand holding hers. The Doctor let go as he opened the door and ushered her in. There was a large metal heap in the center that looked like it had been pieced together from parts in a junkyard. In the center of it was an old green recliner with what looked like a salon hair dryer on top. He began talking quickly, gesturing to various parts of the machine but Miranda wasn't listening. She glanced at the open door behind her then back to him. His back was to her. He wasn't looking. She took a step backwards. And then another. He didn't notice.

"And it just hooks into your central nervous system, not literally, well, _yes_ literally but that makes it sound scary. It doesn't hurt… I think. _Okay_, so I've never actually used it! But there's not many other options, well, not many _safer _options." The Doctor rambled on, looking at the large wonky machine, "I'll understand if you don't want to give it a go but we need to find a way interrupt your natural dream cycles without interfering with the REM stage… What do you think, Miranda?"

There was no response. The Doctor furrowed his brow and turned to face an empty room. He looked around, puzzled. "Miranda?"

At the sound of his voice, Miranda turned and ran, her heels clicking loudly on the floor. She had no idea where she was going. She needed to find an exit. This place was impossibly large. It had to have been a trick, making her think she merely stepped into a box. Maybe in a dream it was possible but not here. There was no way all of this could-

"Miranda!"

She tripped at his sudden outcry and fell. His footfalls were coming closer. She kicked off her heels and scrambled to her feet. Miranda twisted through the maze of hallways, hoping to lose him more than chancing upon an exit. She doubted she'd do either. Her stockings provided less traction on the slick floors, causing her to slide and slam into walls, causing her precious time.

Stupid idiot, she scolded herself, why did you run? Why did you act out against him! You can't escape him! Now he's sure to do something a lot worse than what he planned! Stupid Stupid! Stupid!

Miranda stopped suddenly, crashing into an archway. She clutched at her head as an unbelievable headache swept over her. The pain caused her to fall to her knees. She tried to scream but a wave of nausea came over her. She bent over, one shaking arm supporting her from collapsing.

"Miranda, you don't have to-"

The Doctor's eyes widened when he saw her hunched over on the floor. "Miranda!" he cried as he rushed to her. He dropped to his knees and moved her hair so he could see her face. She looked sick, more than that, she looked violently ill. Only she wasn't which worried the Doctor even more. He took her by the shoulders and steadied her swaying form. Her eyes were unfocused, he noted. He quickly sonicked around her. It was the same frequency from before!

"Miranda, you have to stay awake! Fight it!" he urged, "Miranda, stay with me. You have to fight him! Don't give in!"

A drop of crimson ran from her nose and down her lips. Her irises rolled back and she suddenly went limp. Frantic, the Doctor shook her. "Miranda, no!"

* * *

><p><em>Miranda's head swam as she picked herself off the floor. Immediately, she recognized where she was. It was her old house out in Dorset. It was dark out but the moon shone through the parted curtain, giving her enough light to see by. She was in the kitchen. Having spent so many sleepless nights sitting awake there, she knew at once what was wrong. It was dead quiet. The refrigerator wasn't humming, nor was her father snoring upstairs, nor were the crickets chirping outside. <em>

_She stood and looked out the window. Her parents owned a small farm when she was younger, mostly sheep and horses. Acres of field and forest were lost in the sea of night. The barn was visible thorough the dark, making her feel less afraid. She could make out the white mane of her favorite horse as it tossed its head._

_Then reality set in and she knew this wasn't a nostalgic memory. Panic arose in her chest and Miranda tried the back door. She couldn't open it. Nor could she open the windows or the front door. She bit her lip as she stood in the dark living room. She stared at the staircase in front of her. Somehow, she knew there was no turning away._

_Miranda started up the stairs slowly, surprisingly the steps didn't creak. When she got to the landing, she paused, gazing down the long hallway. She didn't recall it being this long and narrow. At the end was a grandfather clock, its second hand was moving but it made no sound. Her eyes widened. Was she deaf? The question hung in her mind, weighing on her. She was tempted to clap her hands or make a small noise to see if it was true but she decided against it. She didn't want to break the silence no matter what._

_Her hand touched the wall as she walked, fingertips gliding over the ridged wallpaper. There was a single door open, the last on the left. Her room. She hesitated outside the door. It was open only a crack but it was enough to let light spill into the hall. It felt like an eternity before she worked up the courage to push it open. _

_She stepped inside the room. Her eyes immediately went to her bed. Sprawled out and looking quite comfortable was the Nightmare Man, eyes closed and arms behind his head. She said nothing and didn't move, waiting for him to acknowledge her presence. When he did speak, she jumped, as his voice cut through the thick silence that hung in the air._

"_I hope you don't mind my bringing you here so suddenly. I threw your mind into overdrive, so to speak, making you feint. You see, I just couldn't wait till you fell asleep. Do you mind, Little Miranda?"_

_She shook her head._

"_Are you shaking your head? My eyes are closed, I can't see you. Try again."_

"_No…" she said quietly, "I don't… mind."_

_His expression didn't change. "Good. Now tell me, Little Miranda… what language did you take in school?"_

_She hesitated. That was such an odd question. Why was he asking so many odd questions? What was the point?_

"_French," she answered quietly._

_He nodded as if to confirm the validity of her answer. He pouted slightly and tilted his head, eyes still closed. "What about Greek? Do you know Greek?"_

"_No..."_

_He nodded again, smirking slightly. "Nor Atlantean?"_

_She furrowed her brow, confused. "What…?"_

"_Do you speak Atlantean? Yes or no, Little Miranda," he said sternly, opening his eyes to glare at her._

"_No..."_

"_Basically all you understand is English… and little broken bits of French. I know I'm correct."_

_She stood there, looking at him uncertainly. _

"_So you don't know Greek or Atlantean or Old Norse or High Gallifreyan or Sycoraxic or V'orrnor or Judoon or Brakarian, right?"_

_Clearly having no idea what most of those were, she shook her head._

_The Nightmare Man gave her a steely look. "Then how could you understand them?"_

_Miranda blinked, even more confused than before. "I… I don't?"_

"_But you do!" he exclaimed, jumping to his feet. "This whole time, I've been speaking in a number of languages, languages you don't even know exist, and yet, you haven't missed a beat! Now why is that?"_

_He stepped closer to her, making her instinctively retreat. All of the false pleasantness was gone in his voice. "Why is that, Little Miranda?"_

_He was no longer smirking as he approached her. He lunged, slamming Miranda into the door, earning a small gasp from her. Placing his hands on either of her, the Nightmare Man leaned in close. For a split second, Miranda thought he was going to kiss her but he bypassed her lips. _

"_You found the blue box, didn't you?" he hissed into her ear. "Didn't you, Little Miranda?"_

_She didn't struggle or speak. He was too close. Too close to her. They were actually touching, his torso pinning her to the door, preventing any movement. She was starting to feel claustrophobic. She couldn't move. She couldn't breathe. _

"_Had a nice little chat with the Doctor, then?"_

"_But you're the s-same person…" she whimpered, "You're the D-doctor."_

"_Very good, Little Miranda, I am. But you see, the problem is… he isn't me yet. The Doctor, "he spat."Savior of all but he hasn't told you about all the people he let die. All of the friends he's abandoned. He's going to try and save you, being the moral fool that he is… Oh this is going to be good. I am going to enjoy watching this."_

_The Nightmare Man brought his head back to look at her. He didn't grin but a sadistic gleam was in his eyes. "I have a little message for our Doctor."_

_Miranda shook under his intense gaze, trying not to breathe too heavily. "W-what do you w-want me t-to say?"_

_At this, he did smirk. He ran a hand down her cheek and spoke softly, "Oh, this message isn't spoken. He can read it himself."_


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight: One Plus One Plus One Is Two

The Doctor struggled to keep a hold of Miranda and she screamed and thrashed. He held her tightly, preventing her from injuring herself any further; she had already slammed her head into a wall during her fit. This was much worse than last time; she was in far more pain than before.

"Miranda, you have to wake up!" he shouted over her cries. "You have to wake up now!"

He needed to get her out of there, out of her nightmare. He tried to make a mental connection with her like last time but she was thrashing too wildly. Her cries echoed throughout the TARDIS along with the Doctor's pleas for her to awaken.

"Come on, Miranda! You can hear me. You can wake up!"

Suddenly, her back arched and a scream caught in her throat halfway through. Miranda relaxed slightly and began breathing again. The Doctor eyed her warily, ready to restrain her if need be. Her teary eyes fluttered open and she winced at seeing the Doctor. He beamed at her however, relieved that she was with him now.

"Miranda Cole!" he exclaimed, kissing her forehead before she could register the action, "Brilliant brave Miranda Cole, I knew you could do it!"

She looked at him, still shocked and disoriented. The Doctor looked at her seriously. "Where are you hurt?" he asked her. Miranda shut her eyes, looking close to passing out. A door opened a short distance away from them. In the middle was a green circle with a thin crescent moon inside it.

"Thanks, girl." The Doctor said patting the wall gently.

Carefully, he tried picking up Miranda but her eyes shot open in alarm. "No don't!" she cried, weakly trying to pry him off. He loosened his hold but didn't let go.

"I just want to help you, Miranda," he said evenly.

She shook her head slowly, her eyes becoming glassy. The Doctor took one look at her and made up his mind. "I'm sorry if this hurts but you can't walk yourself." He told Miranda before sweeping her up and rushing her to the medical room.

"Where are you hurt?" he asked again, gently laying her on a bed. "Miranda?"

She turned her head away to stare at a white wall. The Doctor placed a hand to her clammy forehead and frowned. "Temperature's slightly above average… well, for a human that is. Internal injuries?" he paused, poking her in various places, much to her disliking, "Everything seems to be intact… Oh! Hold on! Your appendix is missing!"

The Doctor gave her a questioning look and leaned slightly closer. "Is that normal for you?"

Miranda pursed her lips, annoyed that he had unknowingly tickled her. "Yes," she told him.

He nodded. "Good! I'm a terrible surgeon, I'd have hated to try and find it. Okay! Moving onto external injuries."

She moved away from him slightly. Her gaze made him stop suddenly. She was staring at him as if he did something extremely weird.

"What is it…?" he asked, feeling slightly uncomfortable.

Miranda's expression turned to resemble nausea. "You're… the Doctor?"

He gave her a half smile and nodded. "That's me."

She sat up in the bed, wincing as she moved. "He…had a message for you."

"What's the message?"

Miranda shook her head, her eyes becoming misty. "He wanted you to read it." she whispered, slipping off the men's coat. There was fresh blood on the inside lining.

* * *

><p>Carefully, the Doctor peeled the blood-soaked dress from her back, only unzipping it enough to reveal her injury. Luckily it hadn't dried to her wounds yet it still caused her discomfort. Between her shoulder blades were a number of gashes, all arranged with a purpose. It was a message intended for him. Miranda went through all this unnecessary pain just to deliver a message. He felt sick at the thought and then very angry. Despite his repulsion, he needed to know what it said. Blood was smeared across the grisly writing, obscuring the text.<p>

"Do you know what it says?"

"No," she replied softly.

"I have to clean the wound." He told her, turning to grab a vial from a cabinet, "Don't worry, it doesn't sting. Worst you'll feel is a cooling sensation. It's has an enzyme that eats up Erythrocytes and Blastocytes and a bunch of other 'cytes' in human blood. It's also an antibacterial, well, sort of. It's not supposed to be anyway. Actually, made from … well, I'd better not say. So basically! It cleans up the blood and disinfects at the same time. Pretty nifty, huh?"

Miranda bit her lip as he applied the thick green liquid. Immediately, she could feel a cold sensation spread across her back. It was coldest where her wounds were as the liquid settled in the crevices. She shivered involuntarily. It was actually a bit numbing. She heard a whiny noise and turned her head to see what he was doing. The Doctor was waving something with a green light over her.

"Right, haven't used this in awhile. Forgot this happens." He murmured to himself, "If it gets into open wounds, the enzyme goes a bit …vampiric. That a bad word to use. Kind of scary. Forget I used vampiric. All it does is basically suck up all the blood in comes in contact with. If left untreated it'll go on, basically leaving the person a dried up husk… Right, that didn't sound any better. That was actually worse than vampiric."

He noticed she went rigid.

"But you're fine! Sorry if I worried you! Sonic screwdriver!" he exclaimed showing her the device in his hand, "Special frequency. It disrupts the enzyme's atoms and speeds up their decay. So they stopped before they went under the skin. Now you're all… cleaned up…"

The Doctor trailed off as he finally saw what was scrolled across her back. He took a step away, feeling winded. This was impossible. More impossible than all of the impossible things he's faced. The text was written in High Gallifreyan which didn't surprise him too much but its contents did however. Etched into her back was a single word. A name.

"What does it say…?" Miranda asked timidly.

The Doctor didn't answer right away. He took a deep breath and quickly zippered her dress back up and walked around to face her. "Doesn't matter." He lied, "It does tell me something though... I think it's time I met your Nightmare Man."

He sat on the edge of the bed and she moved away from him. He sighed. "Miranda, I'm sorry. Really, I am. But you have to trust me. There is_ literally_ nothing more important in the entire universe than you trusting me right now."

Miranda looked into his pleading eyes and almost felt bad. She felt her chest tighten and she broke eye contact. He suddenly grabbed her hands gently. Her eyes darted back to his.

"Miranda, please." He implored.

She had never seen him like this, ever. Desperate. Apologetic. Begging. Was this a game to him? Or was it something more? He seemed so sincere, so genuine… Her voice was barely above a whisper when she spoke. "Okay."

The Doctor smiled at her.

"Alright. Okay, this is good." He said quietly to himself. The Doctor's smile faded and was replaced with a look of sympathy. "Miranda, I have to ask you to do something. I know it's the last thing you want to hear but you said that you trust me."

She looked at him apprehensively, already regretting her words.

"Miranda, I need you to fall asleep."

She was on her feet in an instant, shaking her head and backing away from him. "No. No, I cant."

"Miranda," The Doctor started, coming towards her.

"No, no, please don't make me," she pleaded, "Don't make me go back! He, he'll-"

The Doctor took her by the shoulders, looking into her eyes. "Miranda, I wouldn't ask this unless it was _absolutely_ necessary."

She shook her head slowly, tears welling in her eyes. "I'm scared." The Doctor pulled her into a hug which she neither fought or returned.

"I know you are," he said, resting his chin on the top of her head, "but the only way to get him out of your head is to confront him."

"I can't," she whispered, "He'll hurt me again."

The Doctor pulled back and looked her in the eyes, "I won't let that happen. I'll be with you."

"How?"

The Doctor fully let go of her and stepped back. "The same way I pulled you out of that nightmare. I'll establish a minor mental link, allowing me to project my consciousness into your mind."

Miranda stared at him, her trust wavering. "You… won't let him hurt me?"

The Doctor looked at her with an unreadable expression. Miranda wanted to know what was going on in his head, what he was thinking. Slowly, he nodded and gave her a small smile. "I promise," he said softly.

She blinked a few times and looked away. "What do I do once I'm asleep?"

His smile widened. "Let's take this one step at a time."

The Doctor led her back to the hospital bed and told her to get comfy. Miranda lay on her stomach, her chin resting on her arms. She fought off the urge to vomit as reality sunk in. She was willingly going into a nightmare, all because this stranger said to. This stranger that happened to look exactly like the Nightmare Man…

"Alright," the Doctor said, kneeling in front of the bed so that they were face to face, "Just relax."

Miranda shut her eyes tightly, unable to look him in the eyes. Despite the foreign quality he held that made her trust him, foolishly or otherwise, Miranda couldn't stand to look at him. She felt as if it were only a matter of time before that face would be causing her unimaginable pain. She felt him place his hands on the sides of her head. Why didn't she stop him? Had he hypnotized her? Why did she trust him?

* * *

><p>"<em>Miranda," he said softly, removing his hands from her temples.<em>

_She opened her eyes to find them in a dimly lit corridor. It looked familiar but it took a moment for her to place it. _

"_It's my old high school," she murmured, looking around. It looked as though a blizzard had swept through the school, leaving a thin sheet of ice over everything. Miranda could see her breath in the chilled air._

"_He only brings me here to… teach me lessons."_

_The Doctor saw fear cross her features and frowned. "It's alright, Miranda. You're not alone."_

_Miranda nodded although his words did little to comfort her. She looked at the Doctor who was still wearing his striped shirt and purple pants. "Now what?" _

_He glanced at her. "Now we find your Nightmare Man," he said firmly. _

_Miranda ducked her head, "More like he'll find us…"_

"_Good," the Doctor said, an edge to his voice, "Let him. It'll make it easier on us. In the meantime… ladies first."_

"_Are you sure?"_

_He nodded, "He makes these nightmare's to play on your intuition. Whichever way you think is best, is the right way." _

_She nodded stiffly. Miranda ignored the Doctor's good natured smile. Taking a nervous glance around, she started down the hall, unsure of where to go. How he could smile at a time like this was beyond her. In fact it made her a bit angry. Was he not taking this seriously? For a moment, doubt crept in on her, settled in her stomach. Was this whole 'Doctor' business a trick? She shook her head. For the time being, she had no other choice but to trust this man. He was literally her only hope._

_Suddenly, she felt her foot slide on a patch of ice and let out a yelp. The Doctor went to grab her but she slipped through his arms as if he wasn't there. Miranda cast aside the pain as she hit the floor and stared at him, surprised._

"_Sorry," he said sheepishly, "I should've tested it out sooner."_

"_Tested __**what **__out exactly?" she asked, "And why are you like a ghost? You're not transparent."_

"_I should have tested the connection to see what my limits were," he explained, "The mental link I established is temporary and therefore limited. I don't have access to your memories nor do I have any control over this dream world."_

_Miranda narrowed her eyes slightly and carefully stood up. "That doesn't explain why you're not solid."_

_The Doctor nodded, "Well this isn't my mind; I'm not supposed to be here. It's a subconscious defense mechanism. Not being able to touch anything means that I can't do any damage while here."_

"_How come the Nightmare Man can?"_

"_Well, his mental connection seems to be permanent. I'm a visitor in your mind while he's an invader. You can't expect him to play by the rules like I have."_

_She considered this, "You didn't have to play by the rules though. If you could control this dream world, it'd be easier. Why didn't you break through my mental defenses like he did?"_

_The Doctor looked at her with an unreadable expression. "Because then I'd be no different than him," he said softly. _

_She held his gaze for a moment then looked away. The Doctor decided to break the uncomfortable silence that settled over them. "Come on. Let's keep going."_

_Miranda could feel the cold nipping at her and folded her arms. She nearly slipped on a patch of ice again and let out a small gasp that echoed down the hall. She didn't move, afraid that her outburst alerted something. Nothing moved or made a sound which caused her to be suspicious._

"_It's alright," the Doctor told her, "Remember, we __**want **__him to find us."_

_This was a first for her, actually __**looking**__ for the Nightmare Man. It just didn't seem right, or safe. They didn't even have a plan. Or the Doctor hadn't told her of one which was just as bad. She couldn't help but think in the back of her mind that she was walking into a trap._

_As they came to a flight of stairs, Miranda knew where she was in the building. She was on the first floor landing where the steps led to the cafeteria. Miranda stood at the top, debating whether or not to venture down. Her legs were suddenly knocked out from under her and she toppled down the icy stairs._

"_Miranda!" she heard the Doctor shout._

_She bit back a curse as she hit the last step. She squeezed her eyes shut as she rubbed her head._

" _I'm okay," she groaned. "It's just a… bruise."_

_Miranda's voice trailed off as she spotted a pair of shoes before her. Slowly, her gaze traveled up the figure and came to rest on the face of her Nightmare Man. He was in his usual attire and also wearing his normal smirk. _

"_What have we got here?" he asked her, "Come to play?"_

"_Miranda, get away from him!" the Doctor warned, dashing down the stairs and surprisingly not slipping._

_The Nightmare Man looked at the Doctor and grinned, a wild gleam in his eyes. "It seems you've brought a guest, Little Miranda. It's a bit rude; you didn't ask my permission. Need I teach you another lesson in manners?"_

"_Leave her alone," the Doctor said firmly as Miranda backed against a wall._

_The Nightmare Man let out a short laugh. "That doesn't get old, does it?"_

"_Why are you tormenting her?" the Doctor demanded, "What do you have to gain?"_

"_As if I haven't been asked that before," the Nightmare Man muttered to himself, "Tell him why, Little Miranda."_

_Miranda was shaking but not due to the cold. Every fiber of her being was screaming at her to run. She stared at them both, unable to move._

"_I told you to do something, Miranda Cole!" the Nightmare Man growled, "You won't misbehave because __**he's**__ here!" _

"_And I told __**you **__to leave her alone," the Doctor hissed, stepping in between them._

_The Nightmare Man scoffed and stepped through the Doctor. He grabbed Miranda by the hair and pulled her to her feet. "Don't count on him protecting you. He's almost as useless as you," he sneered, "Now tell him why I torment you. What was it that I said?"_

_Miranda whimpered slightly, "You s-said because it was fun."_

_The Nightmare Man chuckled. "Isn't she well trained?" he asked the Doctor, "Unlike yours, my little companion knows when to obey no matter what I demand of her." His smirk grew, "Would you like to know exactly __**what **__I demanded of her?"_

_The Doctor's jaw tightened. "Leave her out of this. This is between you and me."_

_The Nightmare Man's smirk dropped slowly. "Always down to business, eh? Fine," he said coldly. His attention was suddenly on Miranda's quiet sobbing. He tightened his grip on her hair._

"_It's time for you to go to your room," he said to her, "Mummy and Daddy need to have some alone time."_

"_No!" the Doctor cried as Miranda blinked out of sight. "What did you do to her?"_

"_Don't worry," the Nightmare Man drawled, "My Little Miranda will join us later. Now onto business… I take it you got my message It took nearly __**forever**__ to write." He grinned wolfishly as if he had said something funny._

_The Doctor gave him a steely look, recalling exactly __**how**__ the message was delivered. The Nightmare Man gazed back at him coolly, clearly unaffected by the Doctor's bottled anger. _

"_Your message was a name," the Doctor stated._

_The Nightmare Man's smirk grew. "Have you come to the only possible conclusion already? Don't look so sad, Doctor. It's only a name," the Nightmare man teased._

_The Doctor continued in a low tone, "It was my name. You wrote my name in Miranda Cole's skin."_

_The Nightmare Man said nothing but sadistic amusement swam in his eyes._

"_There's only two people in this universe that know my name," the Doctor said seriously._

"_River Song," he smirked, cutting the Doctor off. "Hello, sweetie." He winked playfully and doubled over with laughter._

_He straightened himself, trying to contain himself. "It's a __**joke**__. You can __**laugh**__ or are you more uptight than I remember?"_

_The Doctor clenched his jaw and stared him down. The Nightmare Man pouted, "Oh fine! Go ahead. I won't steal your moment. What's the big reveal? Tell me, I'm __**dying**__ to know! Who's the other person?" _

_The Doctor drew in a slow breath, hesitant to finally admit what he had been dreading. "Me."_

* * *

><p>AN: AHHHHHHHHHHHH! In case you were wondering, the antibiotic the Doctor used was Eknodine urine. Lovely, huh?<p> 


	9. Chapter 9

AN: DIALOGUE! YOU ARE WARNED. Just hold your breath and get through it. It's a bit on the short side but I wanted to end it where I did…. Don't forget to review! :D

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><p>Chapter Nine: That Déjà vu Feeling<p>

_The Doctor stared into the heartless eyes of the Nightmare Man; eyes that were too much like his own yet at the same time not enough. There was no more denying it. His breath came out in small clouds as they stood in the cold stairwell. As neither spoke, he vaguely could hear the distant cracking and shattering of ice. The Doctor spoke finally, breaking the silence yet the tension remained as thick as the ice they stood on._

"_You might have my psychic frequency and my name, you could even have my DNA right down to the last chromosome but you'll never really be me," the Doctor said evenly, "Because I would never hurt someone like you have Miranda, not even my enemies."_

"_Are you so sure, __**Doctor**__?" the Nightmare man purred, "The years know how to change someone."_

"_How many years then?" the Doctor asked, still looking him in the eyes, "If all of this is as it seems to be and you really are me, when is it exactly that I turn into a monster?"_

_The Nightmare Man tutted, "That really hurts my feelings, you know. I don't think I'll answer your question. But how about this! I'll give you a clue… It's after __**your **__time."_

"_Then another of my regenerations?" the Doctor questioned, "How is it that you look like me then? No, wait, this is a dream world. You can look like whoever you want. Okay… Why do you choose to look like me?"_

_The Nightmare Man gave him a cocky grin, "Perhaps I found the bow-tie charming."_

"_I want an answer," the Doctor said serious tone._

_The Nightmare Man laughed, "You're in no position to be demanding things, Doctor. Your manners are starting to irk me. Why don't you come back in a year and we'll finish this little chat then?"_

"_You're not getting another __**day **__to torture Miranda," the Doctor growled, "I won't let this go on."_

"_Again, you don't have much of a say in it but I'll play along for now. You're so used to people bowing to your presence, you might have a conniption if I don't as well." the Nightmare Man teased, "Go on then, we can't have you living in denial forever. You were quick to accept it the last time we met; I don't see why now is any different, well, aside from the physical torture. I've grown quite fond of it over the years... as will you."_

"_You said we've met before," the Doctor frowned, "How? When?"_

"_What's this? Are you losing your touch? You should have figured this out ages ago," the Nightmare Man chuckled, "Is the thought of becoming me __**really**__ that terrifying that you can't even think straight?"_

"_When did we meet?" the Doctor asked, ignoring his goading comments._

_The Nightmare Man pretended to straighten his bow-tie then looked cheekily at him. "Once before and once after," he replied in a sing-song voice._

"_Before and after __**what**__?"_

_The Nightmare Man let out a low chuckle, enjoying every moment the Doctor squirmed. He looked the Doctor in the eyes and replied in a solemn voice."The Time War."_

_The Doctor took a deep breath, trying to think through his emotions. Once before and once after the Time War. It suddenly struck him._

"_Have you met me in this regeneration?" he asked slowly, trying to confirm his suspicions._

_The Nightmare Man smirked. "You tell me."_

"_You weren't real though. None of that was real," the Doctor said in disbelief. _

"_Is that so?" the Nightmare Man questioned, his brows raised, "I think you know otherwise. Come now, Doctor, surely you've connected the pieces by now. You call yourself the Doctor, but what am I called?"_

_The Doctor stared at him then spoke softly, "The Dream Lord."_

"_No!" the Nightmare Man shouted, his calm façade gone, "That was a joke! That was only a glimpse of me… only a glimpse of what I really am."_

_The Doctor wouldn't readily admit it but he was actually getting nervous. In the pit of his stomach he knew what was to come, who and what he was now dealing with. He squared his jaw as the Nightmare Man continued._

"_It's somewhat fitting, I suppose. The Dream Lord… The Nightmare Man… I'm merely an echo of what I once was." There was a distinct fire behind his eyes and a sharp edge to his voice. "But an echo," he drawled, "…is just enough for this."_

"_Enough for what?"_

_The Nightmare man glared then let a smirk crawl over his features. "Can't you see, Doctor? Can't you __**feel **__it? That underlying hatred. That unbridled fury. That insufferable darkness in your hearts. If you could, you would rip me to pieces… And you'd enjoy it."_

_The Doctor said nothing in response as the Nightmare Man continued._

"_You were right in calling me a monster. Oh, I am and I love it. I'm the monster lurking inside you right at this very moment. I'm the darkness in every part of your being, every ill and evil thought that has every crossed your mind. Now tell me again, Doctor, what am I called?"_

_The Doctor swallowed the lump in his throat. He knew very well what this being was and what it was capable of. His worst fears were confirmed. The Doctor slowly shut his eyes, "The Valeyard."_

_The Valeyard clapped in a mocking manner. "Very good, Doctor, well done. For a moment, I thought you had forgotten me. All these years and I recall our first meeting in the High Gallifreyan Court rather vividly; I should hope you do as well," the Valeyard smirked, "I'd like to think I made quite the impression. Had you have been found guilty under the false charges I brought against you, I'd have gained the rest of your lives. It's a pity my plan didn't work out but seeing you like this now, at my mercy, makes up for it a thousand times over." _

* * *

><p><em>Miranda picked herself off the ground. Immediately, she realized she was no longer in the school. She stood up to find herself in the forest from before. <em>

_She stood and rubbed her arms. "It's icy here too," she whispered to herself._

_After a quick look around, she saw that she was completely alone. "Doctor?" she called then quickly regretted it. It was still dark and she couldn't see past the first row of trees. Anything could be out there. He could be out there. Miranda bit her lip._

"_Doctor…" she whispered, "Where are you?"_

_There was a sudden noise in the trees behind her that sounded like the groaning of tree limbs bending and a person sighing. She spun around, her heart starting to pick up._

"_Doctor?" she asked meekly, knowing it wasn't him hiding in the forest._

_A figure moved in the darkness. It stopped just outside of her line of vision so that she couldn't quite make it out. Miranda froze as the figure began to grow taller, stretching high over her head so that she had to crane her neck to look its head. She stared up at the impossibly tall being in shock. Suddenly, a pair of small white orbs appeared where its face would be. Miranda took a step back and glanced around to see more dark figures moving amongst the trees. Her blood ran as cold as the ice surrounding her. The Shadow People were here._

* * *

><p><em>The Doctor looked gravely at the Valeyard who gazed back coolly. Although he appeared calm, the Doctor could sense the Valeyard's growing animosity which made him very dangerous.<em>

"_How can you exist?" the Doctor asked, "The situation with the Dream Lord was only a projection of my mind-"_

"_Of __**our **__mind, you mean," the Valeyard interrupted, "Don't ignore my presence. I might have died but I'm alive as long as your hearts are beating. When you defeated me in the Matrix, you knew I wasn't gone entirely. There's no running from me, Doctor. There's no running from yourself." He smirked, "I'm always there, inside you, lurking just beneath the surface, waiting for my moment, my moment to break free."_

"_Your moment to break free was in the future, between my twelfth and final regeneration. You went back in my timeline to prosecute my sixth incarnation and died. Your moment is gone; you shouldn't exist outside of my mind. So... How are you here, in Miranda's?"_

_The Valeyard grinned. "Amelia Pond."_

_The Doctor's eyes narrowed. "What does she have to do with any of this?"_

"_Why everything, Doctor. Without her, none of this would be possible."_

"_How?" the Doctor asked, keeping his tone even._

"_On her wedding day, Pond-scum brought you back into existence. In one moment, she remembered all of your little adventures, including when she met your dark side."_

"_That wouldn't do anything," the Doctor protested, "It wouldn't give you a free thinking consciousness. What Amy remembered was just that, a memory, of something that was __**over**__."_

"_You're right, of course!" the Valeyard exclaimed, "That alone did nothing but then, in the quickest of seconds, Pond-scum had an afterthought. Of me. Here, the Valeyard already existed inside of you, ready to break free of your twelfth form and terrorize your sixth but I, I was a spare part. I didn't belong in your mind; I couldn't exist there twice. So I was forced to wander until I could find another body to latch on to."_

"_Then you found Miranda," the Doctor said somberly._

_There was a spark of ill amusement in the Valeyard's eyes. "My Little Miranda. Sometimes I think she found me though, jumping off that roof like that. She gave me her mind on a gold platter," he grinned._

"_Miranda didn't jump," the Doctor said firmly, "She was pushed."_

_The Valeyard narrowed his eyes, looking both curious and intrigued. "By who then? With all of her memories, there's not even a suspect. Her parents were sleeping, she made sure of it. Now who do you think was waiting for her? Who was trying to help me destroy her life?" the Valeyard's lips tugged to the side in a slight smile, "Do you have a guess, Doctor?"_

_The Doctor avoided his question. "You need to leave her mind right now. You shouldn't exist."_

"_Well that's too bad," the Valeyard dismissed, "I'm not leaving until I decide to. Do you know when that is, Doctor?"_

_The Doctor was silent, dreading his darker side's reply. The Valeyard lowered his head so that his fringe shadowed his face. His eyes flashed as he glanced up at the solemn Doctor. _

"_I'm not leaving until she's dead. And Doctor?" _

_The Valeyard picked his head up, grinning maniacally. "I'm leaving today."_

_The Doctor stared at the Valeyard, horrified. "You've done enough to her. Leave her alone," the Doctor growled, "This is between you and me."_

_The Valeyard laughed, "Oh, it is between us but you know how wars are; there's bound to be a few casualties here and there."_

_"I'm warning you. Leave. Miranda. Alone," the Doctor ordered._

_"Or what?" the Valeyard hissed, "Haven't you forgotten your at my mercy? Or rather… Little Miranda is, so that's just the same."_

_"Why?" the Doctor asked, "Why drag her into it?"_

_The Valeyard snorted, "Well, I can't very well kill you; that'd be counterproductive on my part anyhow. No. The best way to get at you is to go through her. And then make you live with it."_

_"She's host to your consciousness, if she dies, so do you."_

_"I don't think so, Doctor," the Valeyard snickered, "You're bluffs won't work on me. If Little Miranda dies then I'd be severed from her mind, able to find another host and we can start this game all over again." He paused, pretending to think. "Now, where did that piece of Pond-scum live again? Leadworth?"_

_"Stop it," the Doctor demanded._

_"No, I don't think I will. You know me, I never stop, especially not when I'm having so much fun!" the Valeyard grinned wolfishly, "Here's a new game. It's called 'Find Miranda'. Rules are simple, if you find her first, I'll leave. If I find her first, I'll kill her."_

_The Doctor glared. "You said it yourself, there isn't a difference between you leaving and killing her. You'll do both whether or not I win at your game. Why should I play along?"_

_The Valeyard stepped closer to him, looking smug. "There are many manners in which one can be killed. Here, my imagination is the only limit. Little Miranda can either die quickly or I can prolong her agony as long as I desire. That being said, I advise you to _play along_. Little Miranda knows what happens when I'm cross. If you upset me, Doctor, she'll be the one to pay."_

_The Valeyard laughed at the Doctor, seeing the worry in his eyes. "Oh, I'm going to enjoy this! Let's not delay, shall we? Let the hunt commence."_

_The Valeyard was suddenly gone, leaving the Doctor, standing alone in the icy stairwell. The walls began to crumbed, the ice shattering and flying in his direction. The ice and bits of wall did the Doctor no damage as they simply went through him. The Doctor was suddenly in waist deep water, surrounded on all sides by high dead grass. Unfazed, he didn't hesitate to take off running, trying to find a way to Miranda, wherever that might be._

* * *

><p><em>The shadows closed in around her. Miranda ran as fast as her legs would allow. The Shadow People never actively pursued her; she vaguely recalled the street lamps going out. What did this mean?<em>

_She ran through the forest blindly, the branches smacking her in the face, pulling her hair, and snagging her clothes. The Shadow People morphed and shifted on either side of her; she didn't dare look behind her._

_Suddenly, Miranda felt something graze her knees then her elbows. She stopped quickly, swatting at the unknown substance. For a moment, she thought the Shadow People had caught her but she realized she was standing in tall grass. In an instant, she was running again, aware that the Shadows were still after her. Why hadn't they pounced when she momentarily stopped? Were they messing with her?_

_Her shoulder slammed into a tree trunk, sending her spinning off to the side. Miranda righted herself and kept running. As if by some miracle, she saw a light up ahead just beyond the forest. That was impossible though; the forest was always endless. The Nightmare Man created it to loop in on itself so that the end was the beginning again. Miranda didn't question it at the moment and kept going, the fear of the shadows overwhelming her._

_She expected to be stopped just before she reached it. She expected to feel a cold clammy hand grab her ankle, her escape just mere inches from her. But she made it into the soft light. As she burst through the trees, she collapsed into the tall grass, a few yards from the forest._

_Breathing heavily, she looked back, peeking through the dead grass to see that the forest was gone. Miranda furrowed her brow. She hadn't expected to get off that easily. Had it been the Nightmare Man's doing? It had to have been but why? Were they leading her somewhere? Herding her like a scared sheep to some slaughterhouse._

_She looked around and saw vast field illuminated by the glow of the moon. Wait, two moons, she noted. That's a bit odd, she thought to herself. Directing her attention back to the ground, she realized there was a few buildings in the distance._

_Her eyes widened. It was her old house in Dorset as well as the small barn where they kept their horses. She could just see the white mane of her favorite horse as it tossed its head. A knot formed in her stomach as she began walking towards it. She passed her family flock of sheep, silently standing in the field. It unnerved her to see them to still and quiet as if they had died and never bothered to fall over. _

_She headed towards the barn. For some reason it just felt like something she had to be. She reached it all too quickly. It should have taken at least twenty minutes; she could never get used to this time distortion. The doors were open and she walked slowly into the dark barn._

_Miranda headed towards her horse, Glenda, a friendly chestnut colored mare. She wasn't in her stall, instead she was in the last on the end. The other horses watched her silently from their stalls, their black eyes following her carefully. _

_Glenda's head was down, hidden behind the stall door. Miranda stopped and stared. "Hey, girl," she said softly, "It's me."_

_The mare snorted and moved away as Miranda outstretched a hand. "What's wrong?"_

_Miranda turned and found an oil lamp on a table, just where it should be. She switched it on and was surprised when it lit. Bringing the light towards Glenda's stall, the mare suddenly lifted her head._

_Miranda stumbled backwards as she saw the mare. Gaping wounds covered its body, blood and other fluids dripping from the sores. Miranda gagged and staggered back more as the horses began to screech and cry loudly. She dropped the lamp as she doubled over, trying not to vomit._

_In her current state, Miranda didn't see the figure standing in the barn's doorway. Her suddenly nausea made her overlook the hairs standing on the back of her neck. The figure came up behind her. Miranda straightened up and shivered, feeling eyes on her a little too late. She spun around and gasped._

_Miranda's hands flew to her mouth._

_"Doctor!" Miranda gasped, glad at seeing him still in his weird clothes. _

_"This way," he said urgently, leading her out of the barn, "None of that was real, don't think on it. He was just distorting your memories. Just follow me and stay quiet."_

_"Miranda?" she heard the other's voice shout._

_Her heart was beating madly and she froze on instinct. He was coming for her! The Doctor grabbed her hand and pulled her along. "Don't stop now, Miranda, or he'll get you. Just move quickly."_

_She nodded, letting him pull her towards her old house. The door was unlocked as they stepped inside. _

_"Come on," he urged, "Upstairs."_

_"But wouldn't we be trapped?" she protested, "It's a dead end!"_

_"You have to trust me," he said firmly, grabbing her hand again, leading her up the steps._

_She stared at him wide eyed as a knot formed in her stomach. "Doctor?"_

_"What?" he asked, not looking at her as they reached the second floor._

_She licked her lips nervously. "How… how are you holding my hand?"_

_He stopped and turned slowly to face her. He gave her a toothy grin, grasping her hand tighter. "Ooh, you've gotten all clever now. He's such a bad influence on you, Little Miranda."_

_"No. DOCTOR!" she cried, realizing the one outside was the real Doctor._

_"Good, let him find us," the Valeyard chuckled, "I want him to watch this."_

* * *

><p>AN: Super long message- bear with me! Just explaining some things from the chapter.<p>

I REALLY hope this translated well. I'm assuming almost no one expected me to go old school on them with some Classic Who. You probably expected the Nightmare Man to be the Master or just the Dream Lord alone. But the DL actually has a backstory that wasn't fully explained in the episode. I didn't make up the Valeyard, obviously, he's part of canon and the basis of the DL. I also assume most of you have/had no idea who the Valeyard is/was so if you couldn't grasp my bad background thing in the chapter then I'll explain more plainly here!

First off, you can watch the Valeyard's debut ep. It's 'The Trial of a Timelord", a four part episode during the sixth Doctor, Colin Baker's era. You can do so at dailymotion . com. Just search the episode title.

Anywho, for those of you who don't want to sit through an old four parter, I'll summarize. The Doctor is basically taken to the High Gallifreyan Court on false charges of genocide and other bad things. The Valeyard is the prosecutor who reveals himself to be the dark evil side of the Doctor. He was created, so to speak, between the Doctor's twelfth and final regenerations and came back to be a bad guy. If the Doctor was found guilty, the Valeyard would have gotten his remaining regenerations.

During the trial, the Valeyard fled into the Matrix (it was literally a door) and the Doctor followed him and mind games ensued. Now the Matrix was a supercomputer the Timelords used to store knowledge and predict the future. The Valeyard was manipulating it to show wrong information and was going to use it to blow the the courtroom somehow. But the Doctor messed up some generator thing the Valeyard was using and it ended up killing him. Just after the Doctor flies off in the TARDIS, the Valeyard is shown as the Keeper of the Matrix (the guy that had the key to the Matrix door). But whatever, in my world, even if the Valeyard survived, he died off in the Time War.

There was also a novelized sequel called "Matrix", where the seventh Doctor squares off with the Valeyard somehow. I haven't read it yet but he basically starts messing with the past Doctors, making them do his bidding. He also is Jack the Ripper in the novel, go figure. Since I only read the tardis wiki page on it, I didn't think I should include it as canon. But I will pay homage to the "ripper" side of the Valeyard in the next chapter. SPOILER?

If you guys and gals have any questions, PLEASE ask! Don't forget to review! Your feedback seriously keeps the story going! Also, thanks to everyone that reviewed last chapter! Cheers!

PS: Holy crap, that was a long AN! (no one read it…) D:


	10. Chapter 10

AN: Thank you to those you reviewed! Really, thank you.

IN CASE YOU DIDN'T READ MY ALERT, I threw in some additional scenes at the end of Chapter 9 so go read it! (Had to make sure)

So, this was going to be the last chapter but I decided to split it. I liked the idea of having eleven chapters…

Off note: If you haven't already heard of the "Trock" band, Chameleon Circuit, you should check them out. They're a band that plays music about Doctor Who! You can listen to CC's first two albums FOR FREE here: alexdaymusic(dot)com/music/

Check them out! I promise you'll love them. Also you can buy their music at DFTBA(dot)com . And no, I'm not getting paid to promote them. I'm just a DW fan passing on some awesomeness.

Anywho, onto the chapter!

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><p>Chapter Ten: The Girl Who Couldn't Be Protected<p>

_The Doctor waded through the murky water, hoping he was heading in the right direction. He didn't trust the Valeyard for a moment; he was ruthless and evil and had no intention of sparing Miranda any pain. He had to find her._

"_DOCTOR!"_

_He spun around after hearing Miranda's distant scream. It may have been a trap for him, to lure him away from the real Miranda but he couldn't risk it. The Doctor ran as fast as the deep water would allow than picked up his pace as it gave way to solid ground. He raced through the grassy field, his wet clinging clothes not daring to hinder him._

_There was a fairly large house up ahead. He realized it must've been where Miranda had lived since the Valeyard pulled settings from her memories._

_A shrill scream cut through the air, spurring the Doctor on faster. Miranda needed him, now!_

_The Doctor burst through the front door, eyes scanning everywhere for any sign of movement. There was no need to wonder where she was in the house since her screams filtered down from the second floor._

"_Miranda!" he yelled, bounding up the steps, three at a time._

_Her cries echoed through the narrow hall emanating from the last room on the left. Just as the Doctor reached for the knob he found himself jolted backwards and his image began to fade._

"_No!" he cried, "No, no! Not now!"_

* * *

><p>The Doctor awoke with a gasp, unsure of why his mental link was dissolved. He didn't have to wonder long for he saw that Miranda had broken the connection as she started thrashing about. She had rolled off of the bed and onto the floor.<p>

He quickly went to her side and knelt beside her. Miranda was now relatively still and quietly sobbing. The Doctor had a feeling that she was still screaming in her mind however. The sight of fresh blood caught his attention and he turned her onto her side. Hesitantly, he inspected the damage being done.

At the top of her back, where the Doctor's name had been etched, long jagged gashes were crudely slashed across her skin. The Doctor watched in horror as more grotesque lines were raked across her back in a brutal attempt to eradicate his name. The Doctor clenched his jaw as he looked at what was being done to her, a look of both fear and fury on his face.

"Hold on, Miranda," he said to her quietly, "Just a little longer."

He placed Miranda's head on his lap and gently touched the sides of her face. The mental link was established almost immediately and the Doctor was thrown back into her nightmare, their shared nightmare.

* * *

><p><em>The Doctor found himself back in the narrow hall only a few paces from where he had lost connection but he knew it wasn't due to luck. The Valeyard wanted him to find them. Without hesitation, he strode over to the door and went inside.<em>

_The room didn't belong inside of the old farmhouse, that was for sure. It was a hospital room, the one he suspected where Miranda lay in a coma for a year. This room lacked the typical bright décor of a hospital, having been darkened by the absence of light as well as the presence of the Shadow People. They lined the walls, towering up to and across the ceiling to silently watch the scene play out below them._

_In the center of the room was a single hospital bed, occupied by Miranda. She was restrained, having been tied to the bedside railings by medical tubes and tourniquets. Her dress had been ripped considerably, revealing the electrodes that were hooked up to her body, giving life to the heart monitor just beside the bed. The machine's steady beeping matched her panicked heart; the sound covering the worst of her whimpers. Blood stained the white sheets around Miranda's head and shoulders like a crimson halo, giving her the appearance of some tragic saint or, more appropriately, martyr. _

_She slowly turned her head towards the Doctor, looking at him sadly. He rushed to her side, trying to undo her restraints, momentarily forgetting he couldn't touch them. He glanced between her face and the tourniquets with a worried expression. _

"_You shouldn't h-have come," she said shakily._

_The Doctor almost smiled, "I couldn't just abandon you, now could I? We're in this together. Now, I just need to think of a way to get you out of this."_

_He frantically started thinking of a way to get her out of this all the while muttering to himself and pushing his fringe from his face. Miranda shook her head and looked away. "You don't understand," she began, tears welling in her eyes._

"_What I don't understand! Is why your subconscious hates me so much!" he shouted at the ceiling, frustrated as he tried grabbing her binds again, "Just a moment, __**one **__moment to free you! That's all I'm asking for!"_

"_You don't understand," Miranda said again, this time louder, "He said he'd let me go…"_

_The Doctor stopped and frowned at her, not getting what she was trying to communicate. _

"_He said he'd let me go if you didn't come back, if you had just abandoned me…"_

"_Such a SHAME," said a familiar voice behind the Doctor._

_He spun around to face the Valeyard who was wearing a satisfied smile. "I'm only joking, of course. I'm oh so glad you're as predictable as I remembered, Doctor. Always trying to look like a hero… when you're really just a scared child. A child that's always running."_

_The Valeyard sauntered around to Miranda's side. He looked at the Doctor coolly and grinned. That was when the Doctor saw the blade in his hand. A thin silver dagger with an inscription written in Old Gallifreyan; it read 'The Verdict Is In'. _

"_Try running from this," the Valeyard hissed._

"_No!" the Doctor cried as the Valeyard brought the dagger down._

_Miranda let out a scream as the blade sunk into her shoulder. The Valeyard grinned and leaned his weight on the dagger, forcing it further into her flesh. She screamed louder, pulling at her restraints, her nails digging into her palms._

_The Valeyard scoffed at the Doctor's horrorstricken expression._

"_What are you, feint-hearted? Can't stand the sight of blood?" the Valeyard taunted, "The least you could do is watch her in her final moments but go ahead run away like the coward that you are."_

"_Doctor, help me! Please!" Miranda screamed, looking at him pleadingly._

_The Valeyard laughed coldly, gazing down at her, "Oh, he isn't going to help you. He can't, as usual. You see, one thing about our Doctor is that he has a history of watching people suffer, especially those closest to him. Sick, isn't he?"_

"_Let Miranda go right now," the Doctor growled, his voice strained._

"_Aw, the Little Doctor is trying to save Little Miranda," the Valeyard smirked, "How sweet. Well go ahead, hero. Save her!"_

_The Valeyard twisted the blade in her shoulder, ripping through layers of tissue and muscle. When he grew tired of her cries, the Valeyard withdrew the blade and lightly ran it along the length of her arm as if trying to tickle her. Miranda squirmed and gritted her teeth, trying to hold back a cry._

"_Stop this, right now!" the Doctor yelled, "Valeyard, stop this!"_

"_OR WHAT?" the Valeyard bellowed then slowly began to chuckle, regaining his composure, "Or what, Little Doctor? What will you do?"_

"_Erase you from existence," the Doctor said sternly._

_The Valeyard paused then smirked. "No, you won't. No matter how self-righteous you are, we both know you're much more important than a little human. You wouldn't sacrifice your life, our life."_

"_I have before."_

_The Valeyard sighed. "Let me be more clear… You wouldn't sacrifice the rest of your lives. Oh, the poor universe would collapse without your big head to orbit around. We wouldn't want that so enough of your stalling… Let's get back to the fun, shall we?"_

_He turned back to Miranda and pouted. "Sorry about him; he's always one to interrupt. Now where were we? Ah! Right!" he exclaimed, looking more jovial than ever._

"_Remember just last week when you were mindlessly watching that cooking network program and that commercial came on raving about this wicked sharp blade that can cut through literally every piece meat including bone in ten seconds flat?" he said all in one breath. Grinning, he held up his own knife, "I think I can beat that record."_

_The Valeyard leaned over her somewhat and repeatedly dragged the sharp edge of the knife across her forearm in a sawing motion. He laughed softly at seeing Miranda bite back another scream. Growing impatient rather quickly, he used the blade more viciously, slicing and peeling tissue and tendon from the bone as one would flay an animal carcass. Her howls of agony reverberated throughout the room and the heart monitor was wailing loudly, drowning out the Doctor's shouted words. Metal grinded against bone, gnawing through the surface and marrow before finally breaking clean through. The Valeyard thought himself kind enough to leave her arm partially attached. _

_He laughed heartily. "Something tells me I didn't beat that ten seconds… but they say practice makes perfect! I'll get it eventually. Tell me, Doctor, just how many bones are in the human body? Oh, that's right. You're not a proper doctor, are you? Miranda then, how many bones are in your body?"_

_The Valeyard watched in mock concern as Miranda lay bloody and shaking, her only response being more violent sobs. He pouted, "Don't know? Well, we'll just have to count them for you, wont we?"_

"_Please stop!" Miranda managed to gasp._

"_Oh begging me doesn't work, Little Miranda. You should know that by now," the Valeyard chided, "Oh, I know! Why don't you beg our Little Doctor?"_

_The Valeyard grinned at the other Time Lord. "Beg him, Little Miranda," he said mocking tone," Beg him to make it stop."_

_Miranda started to sob again which only irritated the Valeyard. He growled and stabbed his knife into the mattress beside her head. "Do it!" he roared._

_She let out a choked cry and looked miserably at the Doctor. "Doctor… p-please," she whimpered softly._

_A sick smile spread across the Valeyard's face as he turned towards the Doctor. "Well? Give the word, Doctor, and I'll end it. I'll end her pain… and her life. Consider it a mercy killing if you will." _

"_Enough of this. Your fight is with __**me**__! Leave Miranda out of this!" the Doctor shouted at the Valeyard, "You wanted the remainder of my regenerations last time, you can have them. Just leave her alone!"_

_The Valeyard snorted, "That was five regenerations ago. It's not much of a prize now."_

"_Fine," the Doctor said, glancing at Miranda's tear-stained face, "What do you want then?"_

_The Valeyard let out a deep chuckle. "__**This**__ is what I want, Doctor. I want to watch you suffer… and if going through a human is the only way, then so be it," he hissed then turned to Miranda with a faked smile, "Nothing personal, my Little Miranda. I sincerely cherish each moment we've spent together but I've got to stick to my priorities and this… __**this **__is number one."_

_The Doctor turned his attention away from the Valeyard. There was absolutely no reasoning with him. The Valeyard had nothing to lose and was having too much of a god time to change his mind. The only way Miranda could get out of this alive was if she took back control. He had to make her see that!_

"_Miranda, you have to listen to me carefully," the Doctor said shakily._

_Miranda turned away from him and he ran a trembling hand through his hair. "Not now, Miranda. Please, this is what he wants. You have to listen to me! You said you trusted me-"_

"_And you said you'd protect me!" she shouted, turning back to glare at him, "You promised."_

_The Valeyard chuckled, "Oh, isn't this just lovely? Good girl, my Miranda. You tell that nasty old Doctor. Tell him how this is his fault. If you can get him to cry, I'll consider sparing your life, Little Miranda… or at least I'll give you the honor of dying in my arms."_

_Miranda shook, trying to hold back her tears as she looked into the Valeyard cruel laughing eyes._

"_Stop listening to him! I know I promised and I'm sorry. Miranda, I'm so very sorry. Believe me when I say that," the Doctor implored, "I broke the one promise I made to you but never again. Not ever again. Just trust me one more time."_

_The Valeyard tutted and shook his head. "I wouldn't if I were you, Little Miranda," he drawled, looking at the Doctor with disdain. "Our Little Doctor is a little liar; I would know." _

_Miranda shivered as she locked eyes with the Doctor. He had that look again; that miserable desperate look that was silently begging her to put her trust and, ultimately, her life in his hands. Tears spilled over her eyelashes but she didn't look away._

"_Miranda," the Doctor said calmly, "If anything you need to trust yourself right now."_

_The Valeyard snorted and rolled his eyes. "Oh, here we go," he moaned dramatically. _

_The Doctor continued, ignoring the Valeyard's snide comment. "You need to take back control of your mind. It's the only way to get out of this."_

_Miranda blinked away tears, trying to ignore the pain. "He's too st-strong," she whispered._

"_No, you're stronger than him, Miranda," the Doctor said firmly, "You have to believe that. This is __**your **__mind. __**You **__control this dream world, not him. Take back control. You're the only who can, Miranda."_

_The Valeyard sneered, watching something flicker behind Miranda's eyes; something that he hadn't seen in her for years. In her sad eyes, he could see hope, a dull little glimmer of hope and he didn't like it one bit. That fragment of hope was too much. A low growl rumbled in his chest as he glared down at his Little Miranda looking desperately at the Doctor. He knew what the Doctor was capable of. His meddling could spoil everything._

"_That's quite enough of that," he barked, "Don't go filling Little Miranda's head with false hope, Doctor. She knows very well who holds the power here. Me."_

_The Doctor finally looked away from Miranda to glare at his darker half. "That's a lie and you know it. You're nothing more than a parasite in her mind. Tonight, you're going to pay for everything you've ever done."_

"_And you think she's the one to do it…? Little Miranda couldn't hurt me even if she tried. Of course, she wouldn't try," the Valeyard tilted his head towards her and raised his voice, "Isn't that right, Little Miranda?"_

"_You've been controlling Miranda with fear and pain," the Doctor began, "You've done everything in your power to make her afraid of crossing you. Why? Because you're scared. You're scared of what she can do to you. Her mind, her rules. All Miranda has to do is wish you away."_

_The Doctor quickly glanced at Miranda, hoping she'd take the hint but she seemed too caught up in her pain. She might have not even heard him._

"_Rubbish," the Valeyard sneered, "Her mind is weak. She can do nothing against me."_

"_You couldn't be more wrong, Valeyard. Miranda's mind happens to be stronger than the average humans… The addition of your consciousness gave her a boost of psychic potential. You didn't weaken her, you made her stronger."_

_The Valeyard glowered at the Doctor, gritting his teeth behind his curled lips. He gripped the handle of his blade tighter, making his hand shake._

"_The wounds you inflict only carry through to the real world because she believes it's real. The mind controls everything and hers was so strong, it was able to alter her body. Her mind made your torture real, not you."_

_The Doctor turned to Miranda. "You can defeat him, Miranda. Only you can."_

_There was a low laugh behind them as the Valeyard sauntered closer. "I nearly forgot how longwinded you can get, Doctor. No matter how sweet and encouraging that was, you are forgetting one very important thing!" the Valeyard paused, "Oh, how I love proving you wrong. Don't you want to know what you're forgotten?"_

_The Doctor scowled but remained silent, still by Miranda's side._

"_I'll tell you anyway. You've forgotten that Little Miranda can't, ahem, defeat me if she can't believe she can. And she won't be able to believe she can because she won't be able to think. Do you know why Little Miranda won't be able to think, Doctor?"_

_He leaned in closer, grinning. "Little Miranda won't be able to think because she'll be dead."_

_In one swift motion, the Valeyard brought the dagger high over his head with both hands. The Doctor's eyes widened and he jumped in the path of the knife. The blade passed through the Doctor, driven by the Valeyard's mad force and made contact with flesh._

_The Doctor didn't need to turn around to know what had happened but he did anyway. The Valeyard stood over Miranda a moment longer, hands still gripping the blade then stepped away to let the Doctor see. The Doctor froze, momentarily unable to process the situation. The handle of the knife was protruding from Miranda's chest, rising and falling with her ragged breaths. _

"_Right through the heart," the Valeyard said wistfully, "At present, she's got about four minutes at best."_

_The Valeyard quickly grabbed the dagger's handle and removed it. He shrugged. "Now, it's more like one minute. Better say good-bye, Doctor."_


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven: One Giant Leap for Her Mind

_Miranda was aware of the intense pain shooting through her body but was for the most part unable to process what was happening. There was blood- so much blood. The smell hung in her nostrils, making her feel nauseous. She could feel it trickle down her frame and pool around her, soaking into the sheets. The warmth of it made her feel quite cold in comparison. She was shaking violently, using what energy she had in her weakened state. Why couldn't she stop shaking?_

_Her vision was unfocused. Everything was blurred and dark. She was dizzy, trying to make out shapes then gave up. Miranda couldn't think straight. She didn't quite recall what had happened or why she felt so terrible. All she knew was that she was tired, very tired. She needed to sleep. Yes, that was it. Sleep, that's all that mattered. She had to go to sleep._

_Miranda's eyes were shut although she didn't remember closing them. Had they always been closed? It didn't matter anyway. She felt herself drifting off, barely aware of her bodily discomfort. She felt oddly content but as she lay there, her peaceful state began to crumble. She could still smell blood, actually, now she could taste it. There was also a dull noise in her ears, preventing her from slipping into an unconscious bliss._

_At first she thought it was her heartbeat but she realized it was a voice. It was distant and incoherent. Who was talking? No, the person was shouting. Who was shouting then? She wanted to know. The voice sounded like it was much closer, the words becoming somewhat clearer. Who was it? The voice was distinctly male but she was too tired to try and place it._

"_Miranda."_

_The voice sounded strained as if they had been shouting too much. There was also a sense of urgency in the tone as well as desperation. Why?_

"_You have to fight this, Miranda," he said in his tense voice, "Please fight, Miranda. You can't give up."_

_She didn't understand. Fight what? How could she fight anything when she was so exhausted? The idea seemed absurd to her. There was a long sigh from the man, exasperated and fraught. _

_"Miranda, you're not gone, not yet. You still have a heartbeat. I know you can hear me. Trust me, Miranda. Listen to me."_

_It sounded familiar, his voice. She knew it from somewhere but was still too lightheaded to make sense of it and attach a name or a face. Who was talking to her? She wanted to know but her weary state stopped her from taking any means to find out._

"_Please look at me," he pleaded, his voice starting to crack._

_She tried but her eyelids seemed to be made of lead. It was near impossible for her to even fathom moving them and seeing anything but the darkness cover they brought._

"_Miranda," the voice said again, this time just above a whisper._

_Why was his voice so familiar? And why did he sound so miserable? She drew in a long breath, filling her lungs with cool air. It was then that she felt the stab of pain in her chest from expanding her cavity and the taste of blood was now too strong to ignore._

"_Open your eyes."_

_Miranda frowned, or perhaps she wanted to frown but was too drained to do so. Regardless, the request by this familiar voice urged her desire to comply. Just open your eyes, she told herself, just open your eyes. Then by some force, Miranda found that her eyes were open although she didn't recall doing so; they just were. Her vision swirled, blending the colors of the room into a dull grey. And then suddenly the world rushed upon her as if for the first time._

_At once, there was a whoop of joy and also a disgruntled hiss. Miranda gazed at the figure to her right and the image gradually came into focus. Her Nightmare Man stood looking down at her, his face conveying the utmost displeasure. She felt afraid for a moment before the person to her left caught her attention._

"_I knew you could do it!" the Doctor beamed. Too quickly did his smile drop and was replaced with a look of seriousness. "You have to do exactly as I say, Miranda," he said solemnly, "There isn't much time left. You need to believe in yourself, completely and without a doubt. Not a single doubt. You can save your life if you do."_

_Miranda started to shake her head then stopped when it made her lightheaded. Her eyes wondered down to her bloodied body, suddenly aware of the massive damage done. "Oh," she gasped, her voice leaving her as shock overwhelmed her. _

"_No, no, don't look. Look at me instead," the Doctor ordered, "Focus on me."_

_Miranda looked at him, clearly afraid and shaken. The Doctor tried to seem confident for her; he didn't need her knowing that he was afraid as well. _

"_It's ok, Miranda. You're going to be okay," he reassured her._

"_Oh, don't lie to her," the Valeyard scolded, "You and I both know she's finished. Any moment now…"_

_The Doctor ignored him and continued to speak to Miranda, "Remember what I told you before? This is your mind, you control it. None of this is real."_

"_I-it h-hurts," she whispered._

"_Then stop it," the Doctor told her, "You can stop it, only you can. Will it away. Believe it never happened."_

_A stray tear rolled down Miranda's cheek as she gazed at the Doctor hopelessly. "I can't."_

"_Just try! Please, Miranda. You have to try!"_

"_Oh, leave her be," the Valeyard frowned. He casually stroked a strand of Miranda's hair from her face. "Just let her die in peace. Doesn't she deserve that?"_

_The Doctor was about to throw a retort at the Valeyard when a deafening beep filled the room. The heart monitor was flat-lining._

"_NOO! Miranda!" the Doctor yelled, staring at her, horrified._

_She wasn't moving or breathing, her eyes open in a dead stare. The Valeyard grinned at the Doctor's distress. "This is just beautiful," he said to himself, "Better than I could've hoped for, actually... Just a few more minutes of useless brain activity and then its official. Then this little game can start over again. Aren't you excited, Doctor?"_

_The Doctor stared at Miranda's still face. A fierce sadness and anger enveloped him. He put a hand to her face, only to have it go through. She had been an innocent. She had trusted him and it got her killed. His fingers curled into a fist and he set his jaw._

_The Valeyard laughed, "Is something the matter, Doctor? You seem upset."_

_The Doctor tore his gaze from Miranda and glared at the Valeyard who smirked. "Another death on your hands. What's the score? Or do you not bother to keep count anymore?"_

_Beep._

_The pair froze._

_Beep._

_The Time Lords looked from the heart monitor to Miranda. The Doctor's brows were furrowed in concern, barely allowing hope to arise in his chest. Miranda blinked. Then gasped._

"_It's not possible…" the Valeyard muttered quietly._

"_That's right," the Doctor beamed, "Impossible Miranda Cole!"_

"_Doc- Doctor?" Miranda said confused, "What's happening?"_

"_You're doing it. You're healing yourself. Your mind in its last efforts was able to take control. Your last thoughts," the Doctor breathed, "Now just follow through. Finish healing yourself."_

"_How?"_

"_Focus on how you were, uninjured. Pretend that's how you still are! If you believe it, your mind will make it so!"_

"_How's that even possible?" she asked._

"_It's not!" the Doctor exclaimed, smiling, "But you can do it!"_

_Miranda had to urge to smack him but shut her eyes instead. She tried remembering herself before she was mortally wounded. There wasn't a pain in her chest anymore, or she might've just blocked it out. She kept her eyes shut, focusing on her mangled arm and then her carved up back. Slowly the pain started to diminish until it was gone. Was she just fooling herself or-_

"_You can open your eyes," the Doctor said softly. _

_When Miranda did so, she was shocked to find herself unmarred, the blood completely gone as if it hadn't been spilled. It… worked?_

"_This isn't supposed to happen," the Valeyard murmured._

"_Get rid of the restraints," the Doctor told her._

_Miranda focused on one wrist, trying to move the tourniquet. _

"_No, no, don't try to untie it. You're not a psychic," the Doctor grimaced, "Just get rid of it altogether. Simply believe that you aren't tied up."_

_Miranda pursed her lips and shut her eyes again. There are no restraints, she said to herself, you're not tied up. Eyes still closed, she tried to move her arm but was halted by the tourniquet. She mentally cursed._

"_Just focus," she head the Doctor say._

"_This __**can't **__happen," the Valeyard said, his voice louder than before._

"_Well, it __**is**__ happening," the Doctor replied, "Deal with it."_

_This time when Miranda moved her arm, it wasn't held back. She opened her eyes to find the restraints completely gone. A smile nearly graced her lips but she thought better and got off the bed, standing next to the Doctor._

"_Now what?" she asked, nervously, eying the Valeyard._

"_Now you make him go away," the Doctor replied evenly._

_The Valeyard smirked, while slowly walking towards them. "I don't think so," he said coolly, "My Little Miranda doesn't have what it takes. She's so scared… So helpless… So __**weak**__."_

_He effortlessly flung the hospital bed out of his way with a wave of his hand. Miranda jumped as it crashed and clattered against the wall near her. _

"_This is still my world, Miranda Cole!" the Valeyard shouted, "I control everything here!"_

_Miranda stood by the Doctor, looking both scared and uncertain as the Valeyard angrily advanced towards her. The Doctor gave her a sidelong glance, silently communicating what he had said before. She squared her jaw and glared at the Valeyard, something clicking her demeanor. _

"_Not anymore." she growled at him, "This is my mind and I'm taking it back!"_

_The Valeyard looked livid. "You insolent little-"_

"_Get out of my head!" Miranda cried._

"_You're never to interrupt me, Little Miranda!" he growled in reply, "Here's a reason why!"_

_The Valeyard lunged at her, his fist drawn back. In that instant Miranda squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the impact. There was a thud and a hiss of pain._

_Miranda's vision was blocked for a moment until she stepped to the side, realizing the Valeyard's arm had been through her head. The Valeyard took a step back, his eyes wide with alarm. Miranda saw the Valeyard's bloody knuckles and the smear of blood on the wall behind her. They both seemed to be in shock while the Doctor had a smug air about him. _

"_Who has the control now?" the Doctor asked the Valeyard._

_The surprised cleared from the Valeyard's features and was replaced with one of rage. In his blind fury, the Valeyard didn't think to use his knife. He rushed at Miranda again, this time intending to strangle her. His hands went through her neck despite his best attempt and concentration. _

"_No!" he roared, punching the wall through her._

_The Valeyard leered at Miranda with an intense hatred in his eyes. Before she would have felt scared beyond thought but now, it was different. She couldn't sense him even though he was inches from her. It was like he wasn't even there. Miranda simply stared at him. The Valeyard took a few paces back as he tried to regain his composure. _

"_You ungrateful little bitch," the Valeyard spat, "You owe me everything. Do you think your feeble body woke from that coma on your own? If I hadn't jolted your mind into consciousness, you'd be __**dead**__."_

_Miranda narrowed her eyes. "You… you woke me up? Why?"_

_The Valeyard raised his lip at her despite being pleased with diverting her attention. "Why do you think your parents were crying? Because they were happy to see you awake? Please! Your senses may have been dead to the outside world but I could make use of them, namely hearing." He grinned. "Want to know why they were crying, Little Miranda?"_

"_Miranda, ignore him," the Doctor warned, "He's only trying to distract you."_

_Miranda continued to gaze at her Nightmare Man. "Why…?"_

_The Doctor looked apprehensively between the two. He didn't like how the Valeyard was manipulating the situation. The Valeyard gave her a cocky smirk. "Full sentences, Little Miranda," he pouted._

_Miranda quickly wiped a tear from her eye. "Why were they crying..?"_

_The Valeyard raised his head slightly to look down his nose. "Mummy and Daddy had decided having a vegetable for a daughter was too much to bear."_

"_What are you saying…?" she asked quietly._

"_How else can I say it? They were going to euthanize you. Stop your suffering. Put you down. End your life. They were going to kill you, Little Miranda."_

_Miranda shook her head slowly, a hand covering her mouth. "No."_

"_Yes," he pouted, "Sad but true."_

_The Doctor had had enough of this and stepped between them, his back to the Valeyard. "Miranda, you're letting him gain control. Don't listen to him. None of that matters right now. All that matters is destroying him. You have to focus."_

_Miranda blinked and nodded, angry at herself. The Doctor stepped aside so that Miranda could face the Valeyard again. Her expression matched his own, furious and cold._

"_This ends now," she said softly, "The last nightmare you'll ever plague."_

"_You've been spineless all these years; nothing has changed, Little Miranda. Stop this little act, "the Valeyard frowned._

_Miranda shut her eyes, concentrating hard._

_A worried look crossed the Valeyard's face. "What are you doing?" he barked, "Stop this. Stop this right now!"_

_Miranda ignored him._

"_If you stop I'll… I'll pretend this never happened. We can start over! Just… Stop this! Miranda Co-"_

_Her eyes snapped open to see the Valeyard lose his balance and stumble to the wall for support. "My… my hearts. They're… What have you done…?" he rasped._

_Miranda regarded him coldly, "Having a heart's too much of a burden, especially two. I think you'd be better off with none at all."_

_The Valeyard snarled at her then glanced away, his features softening. "Good girl," he said, looking back at her, "Ripping my hearts out… I taught you well."_

_The Doctor spoke to Miranda, "That won't do it. He doesn't technically have a body. That's causing him pain but you need to destroy his mental link. Drive him from your mind."_

_Miranda shut her eyes, unsure exactly of how to go about finding the link. No, she thought, stopping herself, I'm doing it wrong. Don't worry about the how, just do it. Will him away... Will him away..._

_It happened all of a sudden. Miranda collapsed to the floor, unconscious, as the Valeyard let out a cry of surprise. He stared straight ahead, mouth agape. He lifted a hand to find it transparent. His link was dissolved. He was vanishing. The Valeyard sneered at the Doctor's confident expression._

"_You and your damned meddling… Still, you haven't won though, Doctor," the Valeyard rasped._

_The Doctor furrowed his brow. "Enough," he said quietly, "It's over."_

_The Valeyard managed to grin, "Oh, not really. You might've stopped my fun but you're too late to save Little Miranda."_

_The Doctor rolled his eyes. "Oh, give it up! You can't hurt her anymore."_

_The Valeyard clutched his chest and doubled over, coughing. He looked up at the Doctor and gave him a bloodied toothy grin. "Don't look so proud. You might have saved her life, by doing next to nothing, might I add, but I killed her ages ago… I broke her, Doctor. I broke her heart and soul," he chuckled then added, "Shame I won't get to see you try and pick up the pieces. I'm sure it'd be most amusing."_

_The Doctor regarded the fading Valeyard with a cold expression. "Miranda's stronger than you give her credit for."_

_The Valeyard chuckled, the act seemingly causing him pain but he managed a smirk nonetheless. "You can't keep her off rooftops indefinitely," he drawled, "Little Miranda will always be __**mine**__."_

_He lurched forward violently, coughing up blood, but kept from falling to his knees. The Valeyard straightened indignantly and glared at the Doctor with mad wide eyes. "I'll never be gone! Neither of you can truly escape me!" he hissed in a burning tone, "Don't think for one moment that she'll ever see __**you**__!"_

_The Valeyard bared his teeth in an animalistic snarl and roared like a dying lion, "It will be MY face she sees when she looks at you, Doctor! __**IT WILL BE MY FACE!**__"_

_His last words echoed through the hospital room as his image burst in an array of shattered atoms, his mad gleaming eyes the last bit to go. Every last piece and fragment of his body quickly disappeared from Miranda's mind. The Valeyard was gone._

_The Shadow People who had been silent and unmoving the entire time, finally decided to act. Slowly, they creeped down from their high standing, slinking down the walls and into the floor like crude oil, unblinking white eyes locked onto Miranda. The Doctor waited till they fully disappeared before going to her side. He gave her a small smile and went to touch her forehead, severing his mental link with her._

"_Miranda. It's time to wake up."_

* * *

><p>AN: After editing this chapter, I decided to split it up. It used to be twice as long! So now, the second part is an epilogue. I think it flows better this way… Let me know what you think of the Valeyard's demise! :]<p> 


	12. Epilogue

Epilogue

The Doctor opened his eyes, back in the TARDIS mediroom. Blood was smeared across some of the floor as well as the two of them. He inspected Miranda's sleeping form, carefully, making sure she wasn't still bleeding. It appeared that she was unharmed; all of the damage the Valeyard had done was reversed, from the gaping chest wound to his name on her back. He was relieved for he hadn't been entirely sure that the sped up healing process would carry through to her physical body.

Miranda began to stir. Once semi-awake, she shot up, realizing her head was resting in the Doctor's lap.

"Easy," the Doctor warned, "That healing required a load of energy. You should probably rest."

Miranda shook her head, feeling tired and slightly lightheaded. Despite her obvious exhaustion, she pushed herself away from the Doctor so there was at least a few feet between them. He watched her with a sad expression. Miranda sat on the floor with her arms crossed, subconsciously rubbing her upper arm where it had been nearly severed. Her eyes remained fixed on the blood smeared floor the whole time. She looked just as distraught and disturbed as before, not a hint of liberation in her demeanor. She seemed as the Valeyard had said, broken.

After a moment, the Doctor hung his head, resigning himself to the silence. No matter what danger he and his friends faced, what foe they fought, what destruction they witnessed, they were always able to come out of it intact. Battered and bruised, the Doctor and his companion could still manage a weary smile and share a laugh. But not now.

Now, they were just plain exhausted. Now, they were simply the Doctor and Miranda Cole. Two very separate people with very separate lives, only connected by a dead nightmare. Somehow, to him, this didn't feel like a victory.

When the Doctor noticed Miranda had gone rigid, now looking around the room with a worried expression, he decided he should give her some space. This was traumatic for her, after what took place; her mind had to be spinning. He stood up and extended a hand for her which she took after a moment's hesitation. Miranda stumbled as a wave of dizziness hit her.

"I've got you," the Doctor said, supporting her.

Miranda didn't look at him. Instead, she fixed her gaze on his bloody striped shirt. The Doctor fought the urge to fidget, feeling awkward.

"Why don't you a get change of clothes, eh? And some rest," he suggested, "You must be tired."

"No," she said suddenly, surprising him. She took a step back, out of his arms, still not meeting his gaze. "Can I… can I just go?"

The Doctor looked at her somewhat sadly and nodded. "Of course," he sniffed, rubbing his cheek, "Yeah. Definitely."

He led her through the TARDIS, making no detours. Miranda was silent the entire time, feeling more alert than before and able to walk without swaying. She was surprised when they reached the double doors. Part of her expected to be trapped there but the Doctor stood aside to let her pass.

It was still raining outside though not as heavily. The morning sun was just starting to come up, bathing the sky in a reddish glow. Miranda stepped into the rain and drew in a sharp breath. Suddenly the weight of everything fell on her shoulders. There was tightness in her chest and a stinging sensation in her eyes. This was really over, wasn't it?

"You're crying," the Doctor stated, walking up beside her.

Miranda looked at him as he had slapped her. "W-what?"

"You're crying," he told her again, glancing at her from the corner of his eye.

She shook her head and turned her back on him. "It's just raining."

The Doctor walked around Miranda so that he was standing in front of her. He waited until she averted her gaze up from his shoes. His eyes were compassionate yet still held a determination as he looked into hers.

"It's raining," he confirmed, "And you're crying."

She sighed and turned away from him again. "How can you tell?" she asked softly.

The Doctor shrugged, putting his hands in his pant pockets. "I'm just good with these things…" He tilted his head in thought. "And the air around you has a high saline flavor."

Miranda furrowed her brows at him. "Flavor? Are you saying you can _taste_ my tears?"

He raised his brows and hesitated, feeling as if he shouldn't have mentioned it. "Well, more like _smell_ but the olfactory senses are somewhat connected with the taste buds so, technically… yes?"

Miranda stared at him through the rain, appearing somewhat ill. The Doctor stared back, looking and feeling awkward. He cleared his throat. "Perhaps, I've said too much…"

Crossing her arms, Miranda frowned and seemed interested in the blood mixing with rain at her feet. "I should go," she said.

The Doctor perked up at her words. "Oh. Right," he said in a hollow tone, glancing at his shoes, "Can I walk you to your flat?"

"No," she replied quickly then added, "I'm fine."

The Doctor nodded, taking the hint. "Alright," he said, feigning a smile, "Goodbye, Miranda Cole."

She gave him one last look that conveyed nervousness as well as uncertainty. The rain had matted his hair over half of his face which he pushed away from his eyes. He looked odd in those clothes, she realized. After nearly her whole life seeing him in one outfit, it just seemed weird to picture him in anything else, even if there were bad memories attached to that image of him. She blinked and shook her head, snapping out of her mild trance then ducked her head. "Bye," she said, just before turning and hurrying away.

The Doctor watched her turn the corner quickly. He forced himself to smile as he headed back into the TARDIS. This was the start of her new life. Impossible Miranda Cole's new life, he liked the sound of that.

* * *

><p>For the Doctor, this wasn't over. Not yet. One thing still didn't make sense. One very major thing.<p>

He quickly changed out of the blood stained clothes into his typical attire and dried his hair. Flipping a few levers on the console, he stared grimly ahead, eyes dark and unfocused.

The grinding noise of the TARDIS' re-materialization filled the relatively quiet night. The Doctor took a deep breath before opening the door. He stepped out into the warm country air. Before him was a small pajama clad girl with light colored hair, headphones resting on her ears, bent over a kid-sized telescope.

She had been too absorbed in her stargazing to notice him or the glowing blue box behind her. This was it. This was the night nine year old Miranda Cole was pushed off the roof. This was the night the Valeyard latched onto her mind. This was the night her nightmares started.

Miranda looked up from her telescope and carefully walked over to the edge of the roof, staring up at the night sky. The Doctor needed to see who or what pushed her. He couldn't stop it. Every fiber of his being wanted it to be otherwise but he knew he couldn't intervene. If he stopped Miranda from falling off that roof then the Valeyard would have to find someone else to attach to and his chances of finding and saving them was very slim. It had to be Miranda. The only thing he could do was identify what pushed her and bring them to justice, or something close to it.

The Doctor waited.

Seconds dragged by and still nothing happened. He looked around and found nothing. There was absolutely no one around. Well, aside from…

"No," the Doctor whispered to himself.

Someone had to be coming. There wasn't much time left before she turned around, before she got off the roof. Someone_ had_ to come and push her. The Doctor scanned the area again and was reminded that he was the only one there.

This couldn't be it. It couldn't be him. Why? Why would it have to be him? Why was he always causing her some sort of torment?

He took a step closer to Miranda, both feeling and looking quite sick. He really had to do this. It was either push her and ruin most of her life or don't act and potentially let the Valeyard run amok destroying more innocent people. Either way, it was his fault.

The Doctor stood behind her, watching Miranda smile up at the stars. He shut his eyes, unable to look at her and stretched his arm out towards her. His hand was shaking slightly, fingers inches from her back. How could he actually go through with this? Why did it have to be-

Miranda screamed.

The Doctor's eyes snapped open, shocked beyond shock to find Miranda no longer in front of him. He hadn't pushed her. He hadn't even touched her. Disbelievingly, he ran to the ledge and looked over. Sure enough, young Miranda lay sprawled out on the ground below with a head wound that would send her into a coma.

He spun around, trying to find what had done it, who had done it. A soft wind blew across the rooftop, ruffling his coat slightly. There was nothing that stood out. No sign of anything or anyone there besides him. He quickly retrieved his sonic and slowly scanned the area in a semi-circle motion. The claw extended and he brought it close to his face. The reading indicated nothing abnormal, not a trace of any life forms.

Something was wrong, he thought as he slowly backed into the TARDIS. Something was very wrong and he didn't know what. And whatever it was, it had everything to do with Miranda.

* * *

><p>Once inside, the Doctor leaned against the console, deep in thought as the TARDIS maintained a standard orbit around Earth. He was missing something, a very important something. Something that should be quite obvious, staring him straight in the face but nothing came to mind. How could he miss it? How could be not see what had <em>literally<em> been in front of him?

He scuffed his shoe in the floor, dejectedly. "Because my bleeding' eyes were closed!" he scowled, running a hand through his fringe, "How could it_- is it even an it? -_ go undetected? Why could it slip by so easily?"

Suddenly, a loud wailing noise filled the TARDIS. The Doctor froze, his mind identifying the source almost immediately.

"Oh, you have _got_ to be kidding me!" he shouted above the clamor, "Not the _whirly_ alarm!"

The Doctor trotted over to the hanging monitor and tapped it a few times, bringing a picture into focus. Onscreen was a small patch of blue insects, electricity jumping between their bodies. "Okay, you can kill the alarm! I get it!"

The whirly alarm cut off, leaving a high ringing in the room. The Doctor stuck his pinky finger in his ear and jingled it around, trying to stop the irritating sound. He shook his head and looked back at the screen.

"Just my luck! Seriously! Am I going to run into every electromite swarm in this galaxy?" the Doctor asked incredulously, "There shouldn't even be more than one swarm in the Milky Way; there's not enough energy to sustain them."

The monitor showed the swarm moving away from them.

"Well… there's nothing to worry about, not this time. The swarm doesn't appear to be interested in us, besides they shouldn't be able to penetrate the exterior shell. Don't know how they did the first time though. Really doesn't make sense."

He shrugged, "Doesn't matter. Actually it's a good thing they did because if they hadn't found a way in then… Hold on."

The Doctor's eyes widened and his mouth formed a small 'o' as a thought struck him. "They didn't find a way in. They couldn't have. There _is_ no way in, not for an electromite swarm. The TARDIS exterior has stopped countless creatures, countless bits of the most advanced technology from thwarting her defenses, how a bunch of little pests get through?"

He spun around, facing the TARDIS doors. "They couldn't… They didn't!"

After pausing a moment, he flung into action, racing towards the doors. He wretched them open and searched for the swarm. He spotted them easily; just past the oxygen field that surrounded the TARDIS. He removed his shoes, tossing them on the floor and then his socks which he put on his hands. The Doctor took a moment to grin at the silliness of it then jumped from the ship, immediately suspended by the low gravity. His bare foot snagged the top of the doorway to prevent himself from drifting too far from his ship.

He smiled slightly, briefly caught up in the moment then corrected himself. Arms extended towards the swarm of electromites, he began rubbing his hands together vigorously. After a good minute, he could feel static. The Doctor looked from his now electrically charged socks then at the swarm. Although it was a minute amount of electricity, it was still enough for the electromites to detect. Not long after, a few daring blue insects drifted towards him.

"That's it. C'mon, a little closer…" he murmured, watching them intently. One came within reach and then, "Ha!" the Doctor exclaimed, grabbing the electromite with his sock covered hand. With his free hand, he pulled the sock inside out, trapping the tiny insect inside.

He let out a yelp as the electromite zapped him and didn't hold the sock so tightly then. Bending his knees, he was able to maneuver back inside the TARDIS, dropping to the ground as the gravity took hold of him.

"Alright, my buggy little friend, time to make you an enemy," he said, striding over to the console.

The Doctor punched in a few keys, flipped three levers, twirled a circular knob then held onto a hand grip on the console as the TARDIS lurched towards its destination. The TARDIS landed on Earth, precisely England and more precisely Leadworth and most specifically, three days ago.

After throwing his shoes back on and stuffing the sock in his pocket, the Doctor poked his head out of the TARDIS then fully emerged.

"Saturday," he smiled, "Good. Saturdays are very good. Even this one…"

"Did you hear that?" a girl asked, some ways off, her Scottish accent unmistakable.

The TARDIS had landed a little closer than he'd have liked but was grateful for the high hedges that hid him and his ship from view. He crouched by the hedge and listened.

"Hear what?" questioned a man with a nasally voice.

"It sounded like the TARDIS," she said, her voice a little closer.

"Yeah? We just stepped out of it," the man replied, sounding confused.

"Hearing things, Pond?" another man asked.

The Doctor grinned as he heard himself speak. _Now_ it made sense.

"I'm _not_ hearing things! I heard the TARDIS. The grind-y noise, the brakes, the… the _sound_!" Amy whined, "How did you not hear it?"

"Well the TARDIS is right here," the past Doctor stated, "Must've been something else."

"It was probably the wind," Rory suggested.

"It wasn't the wind," Amy muttered.

"Okay!" the Doctor heard himself exclaim, "Well, best wishes and uh best…of luck."

He cringed at the memory. It was terrible.

"Oh, no you don't!" Amy exclaimed, "You're not running off that quick!"

"I'm not?" the Doctor questioned, uncertainly.

The Doctor remembered Amy grabbing his arm and pulling him towards the house. "C'mon! You aren't leaving until fish fingers and custard."

"Right…" Rory drawled once they were both in the house, "You never explained what that was about. Is fish fingers _code_ for something…?"

The Doctor waited until Rory went inside before squeezing through the hedges. He hurried over to the past TARDIS and unlocked the door, hoping no one saw him. Once inside, he withdrew the sock from his coat and released the electromite. It hovered in front of him for a moment, staring with its tiny yellow eyes as he sonicked it. The electromite buzzed and vibrated then suddenly split in two before disappearing into the console.

"Mutation, check! Sorry girl," the Doctor told the TARDIS as he was leaving. He poked his head back in quickly and added, "I'm never going to say this again but when you land, make it a… Sunday!"

The Doctor locked the TARDIS doors and gave her a pat.

"Oy! Where are you going?"

The Doctor jumped and spun around to find an irritated looking Amy standing in her doorway.

"Me? What? No, I wasn't escaping!" he said, looking at her with a deer-in the-headlights expression.

"Escaping?" she repeated angrily.

"Did I say escaping? No, I was just checking that I locked the doors."

Amy crossed her arms. "I don't believe you."

"No, really. Just give me a moment; I'll be right with you… Promise."

"Rory, that's _not_ how you use a stove!" the past Doctor yelled from inside the house. Amy's eyes widened and she turned to look inside, giving the Doctor a chance to dive through the hedge. That was close, he thought, gathering himself from the ground.

"I am NOT imagining things!" he heard Amy shout from inside the house, "I was_ just_ talking to you outside!"

The Doctor gave a lopsided smirk before entering the TARDIS. The next destination was already set in his mind, just a little east of Leadworth. He flipped a lever and cranked a large wheel. There was a deep thud and the vertical column of the console began moving, the classic sound of dematerialization filling the room.

The Doctor grinned. "This time, make sure it isn't Sunday!"

* * *

><p><em>11-12-11<em>

_I almost couldn't walk away from that alley. It was frightening to think that my life was going to be different, even if it was for the better. I didn't quite believe it at the time. I knew what had happened was real although it made no sense. Nothing ever made sense actually. Walking away from that alley was so surreal; it felt as if I was in a proper dream._

_I remember a peculiar noise. A repeated sort of grinding screeching noise as if someone quickly stepped on the brakes. I still can't place it but I remember it clearly. I was curious then and wanted to see what was making the sound but I didn't allow myself to. I didn't even look back. The next day however, I did. I went back to that alley and found nothing. Not a trace of the Doctor or his blue police box. _

_I 'm not sure how I feel about it. In one sense, I'm glad he's vanished- not to sound ungrateful. But also, that curious part of me can't help but wonder about him. There are still so many questions I have. I doubt they'll be ever answered but it doesn't stop me from obsessing over them. I wish I had thanked him at least but again, it seems my opportunity has passed. The Doctor has gone like a fleeting reverie, not likely to come back._

_It's been two months. It's been difficult to cope. However sick it might seem, I was used to living in terror and now that I'm truly on my own, I can't rid myself of the feeling. I know he's not there, the Nightmare Man. But in a sense, he is. The emotional trauma he inflicted over the years goes far deeper than any physical injury. Things won't get easy any time soon, I won't fool myself, but, I think, in time these mental scars will start to fade._

_I never had hope before and I very much like it. I do believe that I'll have proper life, a proper future, someday. There is no doubt in my mind of that fact. But before I pick up the pieces, I need to shut my eyes and breathe. Finally, I can rest. For the first time in so many years, I can close my eyes and not be afraid because I know, I truly know, that this nightmare is over._

* * *

><p>AN: Wow. I can't believe I finished a story. First time for everything!<p>

I just want to thank everyone who has been with me during this and everyone who reviewed. It meant so much and definitely made finishing this possible. Still, don't forget to tell me what you thought of this chapter and the story as a whole! The ending is most important so I'm anticipating some feedback!

Don't leave just yet! There's still vital information coming! (Really) Can you believe… THERE'S A SEQUEL?

I don't want to give away too much but obviously the Doctor and Miranda will be seeing each other again, if you couldn't tell from the last few scenes.

Okay, guys and gals, this is it. I hope to hear from you all in the future. Cheers!

(EDIT- The sequel is posted! It's called "A Dying Dream". Give it a go!)


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